


The Subtle Arrangement of Stones

by Nemo_the_Everbeing



Category: Babylon 5
Genre: Alien Biology, Alien Cultural Differences, Alien Technology, Ambassadorial Romp, Bechdel Test Pass, Best Aides in the Galaxy, Canon Character of Color, Case Fic, Cockamamie Rescue, Gen, Kidnapping, Misses Clause Challenge, Season/Series 01, Tentacles, Triumvirate of Ambassadorial Awesomeness, Undignified Escapes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-20
Updated: 2012-12-20
Packaged: 2017-11-21 17:54:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 38,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/600534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nemo_the_Everbeing/pseuds/Nemo_the_Everbeing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ambassadors Mollari, Delenn, and G’Kar are kidnapped by the Homeguard.  It goes according to no one's plans: Earth dithers, Ivanova stews, Kosh is his usual helpful self, Franklin makes assumptions, Sinclair tries to hold everything together, the three aides mount a cockamamie rescue, and Delenn hopes only to keep Londo and G’Kar from killing one another long enough for someone else to do it.  A first season ambassadorial romp.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ambassador G’Kar

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Twilight2000](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Twilight2000/gifts).



> This story is set shortly after ‘The War Prayer’ and seeks to answer the question: if the Homeguard had such an elaborate plan in place to take out the alien ambassadors to Babylon 5, why didn’t they ever try again? Huge thanks to my incredible betas, without whom this would not have been possible. Additional thanks go out the the Babylon Project for invaluable information, the Babble On Project podcast for some fantastic ideas, and everyone who put up with me during the writing blitz.

— Extract from Security Chief Michael Garibaldi’s interview with Ambassador G’Kar –

Oh, yes, of course I waive my diplomatic immunity. I want this entire situation finished. And never spoken of again, if at all possible. If that requires me to give an official statement, I am only too happy to oblige.

It all started when I woke up with two other people. Now, you know that the rumors regarding my more amorous escapades have at least some basis in reality, so it was not an altogether unexpected turn. Nor was the realization that I was on the floor. I dare say there is not a square inch of my quarters that … well, I suppose that particular detail is immaterial to the present situation.

I tell you this to give you the proper perspective. I have led a wide and varied life, Mister Garibaldi, and it takes a great deal to shock me. But even I was astounded when I woke to find a Minbari lady drooling upon my shoulder. Have you ever had relations with a Minbari? Because I certainly haven’t. I don’t know anyone who has. They’re quite disappointingly insular.

I had only just begun to reconcile this—how do you say it in your language?—broadening of my horizons, when she shifted just enough that I could see her face. I was stunned to discover that it was not any Minbari lady drooling upon my shoulder, but Ambassador Delenn herself. Yes, she was mostly clothed, but several layers were missing, and I myself was down to a shirt and trousers. No boots. Whatever had happened had, at the very least, involved the removal of clothing items.

No, I still don’t remember the evening before. Given the sluggish way I awoke and my narrowed sense of focus, I can only conclude that I was not altogether sober even that morning.

In my impaired mental state I could only worry about one thing at a time. As we seemed to be alone, my concerns were focused on Delenn. I was torn between being very impressed with myself and absolutely horrified. I had a sudden, clear vision of her murdering me upon waking in some attempt to salvage her honor. And compounding that was the question that had begun nagging at me the second I saw her face: if I was so charming, so magnetic that I had managed to persuade Delenn into such a position, who in G’Quan’s name was the person snuggled up behind me?

I turned, considering all the possibilities as I did so. What if it was Lieutenant Commander Ivanova? I would most certainly not leave the room alive, but it would be a remarkable death. Even if it was Mister Lennier I could see a sort of grim symmetry to the situation. But no speculation, no matter how horrific, had prepared me for what I saw.

Well, it was less what I saw and more that I found myself nearly smothered by hair that smelled strongly of familiar cologne. Realization was an icy thing, Mister Garibaldi: I had not only managed to seduce Delenn, whose attractiveness cannot be debated, but also that obnoxious, imperialist boor Mollari! He didn’t even have the decency to be a beautiful woman!

Narn do not scream. We are a proud and courageous people. Even confronted with Londo Mollari in his shirtsleeves, nearly choking me on that horrific crest of his, I did not scream.

I may have shouted emphatically.

Mollari, damn him, woke with such violence that he sat up and cracked our heads together. Don’t you dare laugh, Mister Garibaldi! This is in no way amusing. I fell back away from him, forgetting entirely about Delenn, and I regret to say I nearly flattened her. She woke and shoved me off, which sent me back into Mollari with considerable force.

There is no language quite like Ancient Narn for cursing one’s ill luck and the universe in general.

Mollari tried to shove me off as well, but I was quite finished being their shuttlecock. That is the word, is it not? Shuttlecock. Odd term. At any rate, I told them as much, and Mollari had the nerve to laugh at me. Revenge was only fair at that point.

Which was how we ended up in a heap of arms, legs, and fine fabric, quite determined to beat the life out of one another. I don’t know what it is about Mollari, Mister Garibaldi. With most people, even with most Centauri I can maintain my dignity, but every time I get around him I can’t help myself. I have to make a fool out of him, and he out of me. Fate is cruel.

So passionate was my desire to take that Centauri ass down a peg or five that I didn’t notice our pile of two was actually a pile of three. Then Delenn shouted in my ear, “If you two insist on killing one another, you will not do so on me!”

That ruined the mood. We shuffled off her, embarrassed. She pulled herself up into a sitting position, managing to appear dignified if not serene. “Would one of you mind telling me what we are doing …” She squinted as she looked around. That action finally drew my concerns outside our immediate huddle and I realized my error.

I had known, of course, that we were not in my quarters. The lighting and temperature alone were wrong, but they would have been appropriate for the quarters of a Minbari. In my state of impairment, I had simply accepted that we were in Delenn’s quarters until called to examine my surroundings more closely. What I had thought to be furniture were crates, the sounds were not the station but a ship’s engines, and the sterile smell of my surroundings was not the result of Minbari fastidiousness but of industrial cleaners.

Delenn asked again, “Would one of you mind telling me what we are doing in a human vessel’s cargo hold?”

“Perhaps we took a wrong turn on our way to wherever we were going,” I said. It seemed as good an explanation as any. Yes, I know I should have been sharper, but the world was a haze to me, Mister Garibaldi. And my experiences on the station have been altogether interesting enough that finding a random available room for an assignation was not out of the question.

It seemed to me that the best way to remedy the situation was simply to contact the hapless owner of the ship and request that we return to _Babylon 5_. Preferably incognito. It’s one thing to have an entirely ill-advised threesome with a Minbari and one’s bitter enemy, quite another for everyone on the station to find out about it.

I shouted, “Hello! Can anyone hear us? We seem to be stowed away here. We would rather not be.”

Narn may not scream, but Centauri have no such dignity. I wasn’t even finished before Mollari was shrieking, “Kosh! Kosh, you thrice-damned excuse for a canned bastard! I am the duly appointed representative of the great Centauri Republic! How dare you let me get kidnapped?”

It was at that moment that the reality of our situation penetrated the fog, that moment when I realized even the most colossal of hangovers would not have impaired me so badly. We were not accidentally stowed away, but deliberately thrown into the cargo bay of a vessel on its way to what I had to assume was a disagreeable destination, and Kosh was in some way involved in the mess. Of course, I also realized that I had not been so depraved as to seduce Mollari, so I would call being violently drugged and kidnapped a net positive.


	2. LCMDR Susan Ivanova

— Extract from Security Chief Michael Garibaldi’s interview with LCMDR Susan Ivanova —

Oh, come on, Garibaldi. You have to have hours of interviews already covering every angle of this situation. Why do you need mine? I have twelve appointments today, and that does not include my regular duties. Could we at least put this off until I have more time than none?

You’re a vicious man. All right, I will tell you what I know. But if the dockers’ guild throws a fit when I miss the meeting, you get to try and calm Miss Connally down.

I would like to say the whole thing started when you left to investigate that smuggling ring. Oh, don’t look at me like that. I’m not blaming this on you, comforting as that would be. I mean, yes, the crisis started some time after you left and ended before your return. And yes, we found ourselves needing a security chief very badly in the interim, particularly when the commander took it upon himself to interrogate suspects. But it would be pandering to your ego if I suggested that things might have gone differently if you’d been here. And you know me, Garibaldi; I never pander.

You’re still wearing that look. Fine, let’s move on.

The whole thing really started while I was off-duty. A shuttle full of diplomats was due in a few hours, and Sinclair had urged me to take time off while I still could. Human, Narn, Gaim, there is no real difference between diplomats. Our plates for the next few days were going to be full of organizing meetings and listening to complaints. I would have no time for myself beyond what is required by regulations.

With a few hours to kill, I went to the casino. I thought I would have a few drinks, unwind, and get some sleep before my time was no longer my own. It was not my usual hour, so I hoped to go unnoticed. Of course, the odds of Londo being in the casino at any given time are high enough I should have known better.

Luckily for me, he’s not an altogether disagreeable drinking partner. He is a bit too loud, yes, but he’s one of the few people on the station who can keep pace with me. We spoke of nothing of consequence, as I recall: I complained about Miss Winters, he about G’Kar. Our usual conversations.

My God. I’ve drunk with him enough to have ‘usual conversations’. I need more friends who can drink.

I was halfway through my third Jovian Sunspot when my link went off. I glared at my pocket, willing it to stop chiming. Commander Sinclair knew I was off duty. He knew what I was likely to be doing off duty. Unless the station was about to blow up, I should not answer the link while intoxicated.

Londo took a drink of brivari and looked at my pocket right along with me. “Much as I appreciate the musical accompaniment to the evening, Lieutenant Commander, it does grate a bit.”

It fell silent. “I am off duty,” I said.

It began to chime again.

“Did you tell your link that?” he asked.

I sighed, fished my link out of my pocket and answered, “What?”

It was Lieutenant Corwin. You remember him, don’t you? The young man in C&C who seems to be going through a very awkward, late puberty. “Ma’am, I was told to inform you when the _Callisto_ was docking.”

“They are not due in for three more hours,” I said. “And Earth ships never arrive early.”

“It’s arriving early.”

I have no business meeting diplomats while mildly drunk. I have no business on duty mildly drunk. I thought of telling Corwin to get the commander to do it, but I did have a duty. And even inebriated I took that duty seriously. “I’ll be there,” I muttered, signing off and standing up. The casino did not sway, so I felt I was still in good control over myself. The light-headed feeling would pass.

“I need to go,” I said to Londo. I picked up a glass of water and swallowed it down. My head was already clearing. There is nothing quite like stress to force normal responses. “Do I seem drunk to you?” I asked.

“You are not drunk,” Londo said. “You laugh more when you are. Besides, you’ve only had three so far. It takes more than that.”

“Thank you for the vote of confidence.” I pulled on my jacket and did up the fastenings as quickly as I could. Corwin really should have given me an ETA on that ship.

“Besides,” Londo said, “they are diplomats, yes? We all do our jobs drunk.”

“Careful, Ambassador. You would make a good Russian with that attitude.”

“And you would make a terrifyingly good Centauri. You would be Empress inside a week, I think, and then where would we be?”

“Ruling the galaxy.”

“Pah. Who wants to rule the entire galaxy? Too much paperwork.”

I finished buttoning my jacket, my uniform was as crisp as it was going to be, and my feet were steady. I nodded to Londo and said, “Ambassador.”

He raised his glass to me. “Lieutenant Commander.”

I made my way as quickly as I could to the docks, and a good thing it was too. No sooner was I past customs than the doors from the bays opened, and the _Callisto_ ’s passengers filed out. The diplomatic team from Earth were a distinctive enough group that I could not miss them. They were each of a different nationality, as the briefing had said. They were all sharply dressed in suits and their shined shoes squeaked on the floor.

“Sirs,” I said. “We were not expecting you so soon.”

“So I gathered,” a pale man with light hair said. He carried nothing with him but a valise and a particularly judgmental expression. “I am Mister Collins. These are Misters Egodawatte, Kim, and Miss Rodriguez. Should I take it we have arrived at a bad time?”

I stood as tall as I could and did not fidget. “Lieutenant Commander Ivanova, first officer of _Babylon 5_. And this is an excellent time to receive all of you.”

“I’m sure it is,” said Mister Kim. Unlike Collins, he had five suitcases bumping behind him. I resisted asking if he had remembered the kitchen sink. He went on, “And it’s our pleasure to be here. Our particular pleasure.”

Rodriguez frowned at me. “If you woudn’t mind, Miss Ivanova. It’s been a long trip. I need to get a meeting with your commander out of the way if I’m going to be ready for the reception tonight.”

‘Miss’ Ivanova, Garibaldi. She called me ‘Miss’ Ivanova. She is a diplomat. It’s not like she didn’t know how to address me correctly, so she was deliberately insulting. I want you to take a moment and appreciate my forbearance in not telling her exactly how fast ‘Miss’ Ivanova could kick her ass out an airlock. I just said, “Of course. If you’ll please follow me.”

I cleared it with your people to move them through quickly and with only a visual inspection. Not my preference, but EarthGov had contacted us about how rude it would be to submit diplomats to common questions like ‘are you bringing dangerous contraband onto our station?’ So a hard glance from across the room it was. Mister Egodawatte was too busy staring at aliens to notice how closely they were being watched, and Mister Kim and Miss Rodriguez had shut out the world completely to focus on their pads. Collins noted the position of every one of your people, but he didn’t say anything about them. He just looked at me to make certain I knew that he knew.

“Is it common that there are so many of them here?” Mister Egodawatte asked about a passing group of Drazi.

“Well, we don’t host conventions,” I said. He didn’t laugh. No one appreciates my humor. “But yes, both the Drazi population and the alien population as a whole tend to be quite substantial.”

“So our people are outnumbered by members of other species?” Collins asked.

“The permanent population of humans outnumbers the permanent alien population, but if you count the transient population, humans are healthily in the minority.”

“Is that ever a problem?” Kim asked, glancing up from his work. “I must imagine they don’t always get along, either amongst themselves or with you.”

I said, “Every now and then we see a confrontation between two species, or in-fighting, but it is rarely large-scale enough to disrupt operations. Most of these people are here for the same reason everyone else is: they’ve got a job to do. Maybe here, maybe elsewhere, but they don’t want trouble getting in the way of that job.”

“So you believe in an essential commonality between species?” Egodawatte asked.

“You’re the diplomat; I just work here.”

The five of us boarded a lift bound for the commander’s office. Sinclair had decided that presenting civilian VIPs with a view of the green sector and the true scope of the modified O’Neill cylinder was the best way to impress.

Egodawatte was still talking to me. “I’m genuinely interested in your opinion, Commander, as someone who has spent so much time amongst non-humans. Is there enough common ground between us to build bridges, or are they essentially incomprehensible to us?”

Apparently, he wanted to get to work before he’d even met Sinclair. I can admire the work ethic, but I am not a tour guide.

All I could say was, “People are people. Some of them are noble and some of them are not. Some of them are kind and some of them are not. Some of them want to work for the greater good and some only worry about themselves. Isn’t a more personal understanding of the specific aliens here, as well as their culture, the purpose of this conference?”

“This conference has many purposes,” Collins said. “Understanding is one.”

Egodawatte spoke before I could question Collins about the meaning of that particular statement. “But politics can be particular to a species’ history, can’t it? What about the Narn and the Centauri? How can you keep them both on the station without it devolving into bloodshed?”

It all must seem very simple from his perspective. “There’s no doubt that Ambassadors Mollari and G’Kar are the best spectator sport on the station. But how much of that is hatred, and how much of that is force of habit? Or boredom? Or dramatic streaks so deep and so wide they just can’t help themselves? You ever hear that old saying ‘never judge a book by its cover’? You’re going to need to be three-quarters through most books around here before you can start to judge, and even then most of what you think you know is a lie. Perhaps that negates the idea that you can get to know various species in the span of a single conference, but it is at least a start.”

“Then who do you trust, if there are lies all around?” Rodriguez asked.

“Me.”

“And you suggest I trust only myself as well?” Kim asked.

“No. You will lie to yourself ten times at the first reception alone. I suggest you do as I do, and trust me. I am far less likely to lie to you, particularly about things you would prefer not to hear.”

They all chuckled except for Collins. Clearly they thought I was joking about that. Like I said, no one gets my sense of humor. Before I could correct their assumptions the door slid open and cut the conversation short. One short walk later, and we reached the commander’s office.

It takes a hell of a lot to impress me, but there’s always a little flutter in my chest the moment that door slides open and I see the sheer magnitude of the space station under my care. Sinclair rose from his desk, entirely dignified and composed. “Welcome to _Babylon 5_ ,” he said. “I hope your journey here was a pleasant one.”

“Yes,” Egodawatte said, “very much so. Thank you.”

Kim walked to the window get a better view. “You have a spectacular station, Commander.”

Sinclair gave them all his best neutral smile. “Thank you. _Babylon 5_ is sometimes a challenge, but the peace we can build here is worth it.”

“Is it?” Collins asked.

Sinclair gave him the measured look he reserves for ships approaching with gun ports open. “I take it you have doubts,” he said.

“’Doubt’ is too strong a word; ‘question’ is more accurate. I worry that Earth interests are not adequately served by catering to the whims of other races. Other races that are, let us be honest, often psychologically incomprehensible to us. I am interested in seeing what I can during this visit, and judging the worth of this endeavor for myself.”

“Judge away, Mister …”

“Collins.”

“Judge away, Mister Collins. I’m EarthForce through and through: the good of my world and my people is always my priority. But we also have to understand that we’re part of a larger community. And we have to find our place within it.”

“There are many on Earth who doubt that to be the necessity you make it out to be,” Collins said.

“Why are you here, if you’ve already made up your mind?” Sinclair asked.

“I haven’t, Commander. I’ve already said that. I’m reserving judgment until I can see _Babylon 5_ ’s diplomacy in action. You may change my mind. You may not.” Collins straightened his jacket. “And if I don’t change my mind, I will make recommendations to the senate pertaining to the makeup of the advisory council here. We need someone there to represent Earth, not peace at any cost.”

“You want to judge us, fine,” Sinclair growled. “But don’t you start making threats, Mister Collins.”

“I’m not making threats. I simply want you to know my intentions up front. I dislike when people claim I’ve blindsided them.”

“And I dislike when people believe they can judge the validity of our efforts here after a few days. You don’t understand the way things work here, or the balancing act that keeps this station at the heart of galactic peace efforts. If you intend your report to upset that, be prepared for me to push back. Hard.”

Kim managed a smile in the silence that followed. “Well, I for one am looking forward to the party,” he said.

I should have known things were going to go wrong then. The one time I’m not pessimistic enough, and look what happened. It is a sign from God, Garibaldi. He wants to be certain I never let myself expect the best out of a situation again.


	3. Ambassador Londo Mollari

— Extract from Security Chief M. Garibaldi’s interview with Ambassador Londo Mollari —

Diplomatic immunity? Of course I waive it. You are my friend. If we cannot have civilized talks with our friends, who are we? We are Narns, Mr. Garibaldi, that’s who. And you and I? We are far too good looking to be Narns.

But I only waive my diplomatic immunity for this interview. I like you, Mister Garibaldi, but I do not trust you.

Despite what others might say, this all started at the party. You were not there, were you? Off on some mission in your Starfury, yes? You did not miss much. The council chambers were barely decorated, and even those decorations were muted and dull. There was only one refreshments table and two choices of beverage. Humans have no taste in proper festivity. 

But this party was for your diplomats, so who was I to complain about how you humans choose to celebrate their curiosity? I attended, of course. If your people are interested in mine, good for them. 

G’Kar came to spite me, I think. He did not want the Centauri to have Earth’s ear first. Delenn came too, but she never seems to have fun at such events. I think it is because she does not drink. Whatever religious vows she took certainly make her life less interesting, but that is the Minbari for you: ascetics have no real sense of joy. 

Commander Sinclair and Lieutenant Commander Ivanova had claimed one corner of the room, and they were treated like yesterday’s news by the League of Non-Aligned Worlds. I suppose the League ambassadors smelled fresh blood in the water, but me? These Earth diplomats would be here and gone. Sinclair and Ivanova are more permanent. It is they, not a handful of diplomats who have never been to space, who will shape policy here, so they are the only humans who really matter. 

Not that I was above speaking to the visiting diplomats if I just happened to run into them. One man in particular was standing alone next to the table with the … what do you call it? That weak alcoholic beverage you drink when you wish to impress people. Champagne! Yes, champagne. It was the only thing to drink there if you were not interested in fruit juice, and I had just emptied my glass. So you see, it was not maneuvering; it was convenience.

“A poor excuse for a party, is it not?” I asked him.

He looked at me but did not say a thing, as though he thought that would be enough to drive me away. He underestimated the persistence and the friendliness of the Centauri. 

“I am—”

“Ambassador Mollari,” he said. “I know. I am Mister Collins. If you want something, you should speak to the others. I’m not here to hand out favors.”

“Pah. I’m here for the drinks, Mister Collins, not your favors.”

“Your kind always want something more.”

“My kind? My dear Mister Collins, do not tell me you are a xenophobe.”

“I wouldn’t say I was phobic.”

Mister Garibaldi, there are reasonable people in this galaxy. People who return kindness with the same, and do not care for its source. Mister Collins was not one of these reasonable people. I could see that in his eyes. I have no love for the Narn, as you must know, but even they hate for reasons, however stale. Xenophobes? They hate because they can, because they have nothing better to do. And because of that, I have no time for them at all.

“Mister Collins,” I said, “let me give you a piece of advice, free from me to you: get used to my kind. Because you live on a few sad rocks orbiting one sad star, and the whole rest of the universe is filled to bursting with my kind.” I toasted him. “Have a good evening.”

I walked away. The party was bad enough without unpleasant humans killing whatever mood sedate decorations and watered-down alcohol could engender. 

Delenn caught me halfway across the room. “It seems certain members of the new ambassador’s entourage are not so receptive to your particular charms,” she said. “Or did I read that situation incorrectly?”

Ah, the Minbari. They do love understatement. It’s as though they worry they will shake the universe if they are too loud. 

“My dear Ambassador Delenn, I do not think that man would be open to any charms not of his particular world.”

She looked in his direction, assessing him in that distant fashion so common to the Minbari. “I find it difficult to believe that a diplomat who is opposed to working with alien species would bother coming to this conference,” she said.

“And yet he has. The universe has a strange sense of humor, does it not?”

Her smile is so polite. Have you ever noticed that? “The universe has purpose,” she said, “not a sense of humor.”

“Your universe must be much more boring than mine.”

“A mystery is never boring.”

I laughed, and several of the passing delegates glared at me. They were trailing a dark-skinned human as he went to go and get himself another drink. He had the decency to smile in our direction.

“What do you think of the others?” Delenn asked me after he had moved along with his comet-tail of unimportant people.

“The only thing I’ve been able to tell so far is that they have a high tolerance for whining.”

“Do not be cruel, Londo. The League ambassadors are patriots, as we are.”

One of the Hyach was bowing to the human, and the Drazi ambassador of the week elbowed him to make him straighten up. The Hyach hadn’t stopped bowing before one of the Yolu began to vie for the human’s attention. “Come, Delenn,” I said. “Even you have to admit that is a bit undignified.”

She tried so hard not to smile. “Well …” she said.

“Ah, this is what I like about you, Delenn. Under that staid exterior, you are a great deal of fun.”

“I’m not certain I approve of your version of fun, Ambassador,” she said.

I said, “Minbari are not supposed to lie.”

She put her hands behind her back and turned to watch the human and his chorus of admirers. “That is why I said ‘I am not certain’.”

Can you help but applaud such a woman? I could not.

And of course, that was when G’Kar decided to spoil the mood. “The two of you seem to be having a better time than the rest of the room,” he said as he snuck up on us. 

I did not give him the satisfaction of jumping. “So go away and allow that joy to survive.”

“Oh, you don’t understand, Mollari. By spoiling your fun, my mood is already greatly improved.” He offered Delenn one of those dreadful non-alcoholic fruit concoctions. “Ambassador,” he said, and bowed to her.

“G’Kar,” she said, and took the drink. “If you wish to know, my own mood would be improved if the two of you would at least try to get along.”

There are times, Mister Garibaldi—terrible times—when it seems to me that I can look at G’Kar and not only understand what he is thinking, but find myself thinking the exact same thing. We looked at each other over that lovely Minbari headbone and experienced one such moment of clarity.

“Do you see us lunging for one another’s throats, Delenn?” he asked. 

“Do you hear us using words sharp enough to draw blood?” I asked.

“No,” she said.

G’Kar said, “Then do understand that this? This is trying.”

She seemed so disappointed. Poor Delenn. The universe will never shine as brightly as she wants it to.

“At least—” she started to say, but did not finish, because at that moment the door to the council chamber opened, and Ambassador Kosh glided in.

Everyone there went silent, even those not facing him. It was unprecedented! Kosh does not attend functions. He does not care about parties or personnel. We are all, I think, specks of dust to him. Floating by, noticed and forgotten in the same breath. So why was he there? What did he want? 

I looked to Commander Sinclair, but he seemed as surprised as the rest of us. Delenn, too, seemed altogether shocked. And with the two people known to speak to Kosh both accounted for, the only possibility was that he had decided to grace us with his presence without being asked.

The female human diplomat was either fearless or foolish or both, because she walked straight up to him. We all strained to hear as she said, “Ambassador Kosh, I presume.”

Miracle of miracles, Kosh deigned to answer, “Yes.”

“I would very much like to speak with you,” she said. “I have so many questions about you and about your culture.”

“No.”

She displayed almost Centauri humor and persistence when she said, “No we won’t speak, or no I don’t have questions?”

“Yes,” Kosh said, and moved past yet another forgettable mote of dust. 

She looked to Sinclair off in the corner, as did everyone else. Sinclair just shrugged his shoulders and smiled. Ah, Sinclair. How easily he could make the other diplomats seem like children, and he like a wise and traveled man. A few of the League ambassadors began drifting his way. Lieutenant Commander Ivanova, so like a statue by his side, started to smirk. I like them both, Mister Garibaldi. I really do.

I raised my glass and said, “Now? Now it is a good party.”

“It’s a bit more than we expected,” said someone at my elbow. I turned to see one of the other humans, the smallest of them, having moved into our group while we were distracted. 

“Sorry if I startled you,” he said. “But I haven’t introduced myself to you yet. I’m hoping to do better than Rodriguez did.” He nodded to the woman, who drained her glass of champagne with admirable gusto. If they had stayed longer, perhaps I would have bought her a real drink. 

Unfortunately, she was not the diplomat talking to us. “Ye-Jun Kim,” the man said. “Representative from Malaysia.”

Delenn bowed and introduced herself. G’Kar also bowed in that peculiar fashion the Narns have. I decided to offer my hand. It is a customary human greeting, yes? Mister Kim did not seem as interested in the practice as Commander Sinclair tends to be, but did relent after an awkward moment.

We exchanged pleasantries, the sorts of things people say to one another when there is absolutely nothing to say. Delenn kept at it to be polite, I think, and G’Kar maybe saw a potential ally in Mister Kim. Me? I watched. A Centauri is good at spotting power, and the more I saw Mister Kim the more I realized how little of it he had. He was not so overt as the League ambassadors, but he was feeling out Delenn, G’Kar and I, estimating our reach and influence. He focused on Delenn after a bit, perhaps because she seemed so certain of herself and her position. Or he found her more appealing to look at. Who can tell?

I grew bored and drifted away from them. G’Kar followed me.

“Don’t you want to stay with your new friend, G’Kar?” I asked.

“He is looking for an alliance not to enrich his power base, but to gain one,” he said. “Delenn can humor him all she wants; I have neither the time nor the inclination.”

I saw Kim clap a hand on Delenn’s shoulder. She did not remove it at the wrist, but whatever she said made him pull back quickly.

“Or perhaps it’s not a power base he wishes to build up,” G’Kar said.

“Do not fool yourself, G’Kar. Everyone here wants to build their power base. Mister Kim simply made the mistake of attempting to multitask.”

“I know it’s a revolutionary concept, Mollari, but some of us are able to keep more than one thought in our heads at once.”

“Recognizing a kindred spirit in Mister Kim?” I asked him. I liked the notion of the two of them both trying and failing to scrape together some pitiful power base. It both made me like Mister Kim less and the conversation more. 

“Actually, I thought he would make an excellent Centauri: bowing and scraping, desperate to patch together some half-forgotten dream of glory.”

“It is better to have tasted past glory than to have never tasted any at all.”

His voice dropped low, the sort of voice that usually accompanies a knife in the back. “And how did it taste to be driven off my world? How did failure taste, Mollari? How does this long slow slide into obscurity taste?”

That was more than I was willing to tolerate, even at a function. I turned to face him fully, and we were close enough I could smell him. I said, “Obscurity? No one speaks of the Narn unless they need to purchase your services. You are a race of mercenaries and thugs, soon enough forgotten.”

“Our struggles are not forgotten. Our sacrifices are not forgotten, much as you would like them to be.”

“Yes, G’Kar, it must have been a struggle attacking a civilian agricultural colony. How brave the Narn have become. What heroes you are.”

“How is your nephew?” he asked me. And then, Mister Garibaldi, I thought I might be the one to disrupt the peace. We are forever stepping over the line of good sense, G’Kar and I. He drags the worst out of me. Perhaps he enjoys it. I don’t know. I don’t care. Hearing him speak of my blood in such a way … I wanted nothing more than to see him suffer as Carn had suffered.

Before I could do something rash I heard a voice that sounded like it floated on the top of a thousand voices. “Ambassador Mollari.”

Even G’Kar startled, and we turned together to see Kosh beside us. He has never addressed me by name before. He has never singled me out in a room. Not that I care whether or not the Vorlon notices me, but it is disconcerting nonetheless.

“Yes?” I asked.

“I require your assistance,” Kosh said. “You will come with me.”

“Now?”

“Yes.”

To be honest, I did not want to go with him. I looked around me, and we had the attention of half the room. G’Kar had stepped back, probably hoping I would say something stupid and Kosh would save him the trouble of killing me. Delenn and Mister Kim wore matching expressions of curiosity. I put on my very best smile and turned back to Kosh. “If it is in my power, of course I will help you.”

“It is. Come.”

I followed him to the door and out into the hall. Whatever I was expecting, it was not to stop a short distance away from the council chambers.

“I do not mind a degree of secrecy, but what are we doing?” I asked.

It is difficult to say whether or not Kosh looks at you. Certainly his headpiece was angled towards me, and his iris narrowed, but that could mean anything. Then a fold in his robe was pushed aside to allow a thin metal claw to slide out, holding a truly ugly ring.

“You will keep this,” he said. “You will hide this on your person until it is needed.”

I took the ring. It did not seem special. The band was metal of some kind; the stone was a sort of shifting yellowish color. It is hard to describe accurately, and perhaps it was a trick of the light, but the subtle variations in the color of the stone seemed to shift and change as I looked. I said, “Not that I am not grateful for this … gift, but why me?” 

“Because you are the only one prepared.”

I am not immune to flattery, Mister Garibaldi, but Vorlon flattery? I would not trust that for a moment. “There is something you are not telling me,” I said. 

“There are many things you are not told. There are yet more you do not hear.”

Vorlon insults are no more trustworthy than their flattery, but they are at least more common. “What is this thing?” I asked.

“Useful.”

I was ready to throw the ring back and let him deal with his own problems. “I have no intention of getting involved in whatever scheme you have unless you tell me right now: what do you want?”

His voice was like a thunderclap, Mister Garibaldi, like a thousand voices shouting at me all at once. I felt the pressure of it behind my eyes and squeezing my chest. “You will not ask me that question! You will keep it. You will hide it.”

He left me there in the corridor, the arrogant bastard. I wanted to shout at him, to tell him that if he wanted my help I had every right to know why. I wanted to curse at him in every language I know, but I did not. I am not ashamed to admit I was afraid. There are things in this universe that are so much bigger than us they would crush us without thought. I had always heard the whispers that Vorlons were such a race, but I had not believed it until that moment.

So despite my indignation I slipped the ring into my shirt, and I hid it where no one would look for it. Then I stumbled back to the party, wanting the largest and strongest drink of my life. To my great surprise it was G’Kar who passed me a glass without a word, and had another ready as soon as I had downed the first. 

I paused before that glass and said, “I will be very disappointed if you have poisoned this.”

“Poisoning is a Centauri method of assassination. If I were to kill you, Mollari, it would not be by such cowardly means.”

I believed him, of course. Why ‘of course’? That is a rather long story, and not for tonight, I think.

So we drank, he and I, setting aside the bad blood for a more appropriate time. We do that, you know. We flare up whenever we get close to one another, but more often than not we cannot sustain such intense dislike. So we drink. On that, at least, we can both agree.

After a while, Delenn must have extricated herself from Mister Kim’s advances and joined us. While the others mingled, we drank. While they bargained, we drank. I was quite finished bargaining for the evening, and G’Kar? Who can say why G’Kar does anything?

Looking back, perhaps we drank more than we should have. Considerably more. But the champagne seemed to do nothing until I was well past sobriety, and G’Kar was not going to let me outpace him. So yes, we were drunk. Enough so that Delenn took it upon herself to escort us to our quarters.

Apparently the universe was not finished playing cruel tricks on me, because as we disembarked the lift to Green 4 to drop G’Kar off at his quarters, we found Kosh waiting for us. I swear, Mister Garibaldi, if I never see that iris again, it will be too soon. I startled badly, dulled by the alcohol, and I felt the ring he’d given me dig into my skin. 

Delenn recovered first, possibly because she had not been drinking, and possibly because she had not recently become convinced that his voice alone might be a lethal weapon. “Ambassador Kosh,” she said. “Can we help you?”

“Did you perhaps get lost on your way back to the alien sector?” G’Kar asked. “Delenn has been kind enough to escort us back to our quarters, and I’m sure she would do the same for you.”

Kosh looked at me, and I could not help but shrink back. I am not a coward, Mister Garibaldi, but in that moment all I wanted to do was hide behind Delenn until he went away.

And then he said to me, “It is not yet needed, but you will know the time.”

“What?” Delenn asked. 

“I am here because I must be here.”

Then I heard behind me, “Ambassadors.”

We turned more or less at the same time, if with varying degrees of grace. A human man I did not know stood before us. He was not anything special, Mister Garibaldi. How do you describe average? Because that is all he was in the end: average. But I am getting ahead of myself, yes?

“You will come with me,” this mundane human said.

G’Kar replied, “If you wish to speak with us you may do so tomorrow. When I, for one, will be considerably less drunk.”

“You will come with me.”

“We heard you the first time,” I said. I looked to Kosh, but he was his usual helpful self. Without some sort of hint, I had no idea how a very ugly ring was supposed to help any situation, so I didn’t bother with it. It wasn’t as though one disgruntled human was going to be much of a match for us, even if we were drunk.

“If you’ll excuse us,” Delenn said, clearly thinking the same.

That is when I heard a strange humming noise, and the air shuddered as humans wearing black clothing and face masks appeared around us. And yes, the Centauri government is already lodging a complaint with your government about the use of personal cloaking devices. In addition to those toys, all of them had PPGs and shock sticks. All of this would have been very shocking if I had not half expected something like it since Kosh arrived.

G’Kar seemed to think the same. “Well, that was considerably less surprising than it could have been,” he said and gave Kosh a fantastically drunk bow. “Thank you for that.”

I don’t think the humans were entirely happy about our nonplussed reactions to their scheme. They had probably thought it terrifying. Really, these things are all about timing. If they wanted to scare us, they would have done well to wait until the majority of us were at least hung over.

I took pity on the idiot in charge. “Why do you not run along back to Earth? If you attack us, security will be here in minutes.”

“Not if there’s a riot in the Zocalo.”

“Surely we can discuss your grievances without resorting to violence. We are all sensible people,” Delenn said. The man before her held up his shock stick, and all the others prepared to attack us. “Or perhaps not,” she muttered.

“Damn,” G’Kar said, and then punched one hard enough to knock him across the corridor. 

The humans rushed at us as a group. I caught one man’s wrist before he could hit me with his shock stick and wrested it away from him. He started to aim his PPG at me, and Delenn kicked him in the face. To say I was surprised that Delenn, demure and proper, had enough martial training to knock out a human male with her foot would be an understatement. G’Kar, of course, preferred that martial art of his that is mostly punching and hissing and throwing people about.

“You look ridiculous,” I said to him as we fell back to back. I found, to my satisfaction, that the shock stick was not so dissimilar to a coutari, if slightly less lethal. It has been years since I was a member of a dueling society, Mister Garibaldi, but the skill had not altogether deserted me.

“And you are worse than ineffective,” he said. I swear he threw the next man at my head just to annoy me. The human stumbled to his feet, but I grabbed him by the collar and hit him with enough voltage to the midsection that he would not stand again for some time.

Delenn cried out behind me. I turned in time to see her fall with a small woman standing over her holding another shock stick. G’Kar dashed for that woman while I went for Delenn. The focus of the fight dropped away. Too much champagne, perhaps, or maybe I am just not as young as I used to be. But I did notice the man behind me until he grabbed me by the hair. The hair, Mister Garibaldi! Of all the barbarous behavior! I tried to swing the shock stick at his head, see how he liked his hair being molested, but he beat me to it.

Have you ever been hit with a shock stick? Then you know how painful it is, and how conscious you are even after you collapse if it is set on a low enough setting. Delenn was face down, but I went over backward. I could see what happened. G’Kar got shocked, but would not go down. Never tell him I told you this, Mister Garibaldi, but in that moment if no other, he was somewhat magnificent. Then the humans crowded around him and finally brought him to the floor under a pile. When they stepped away from him, he did not move.

Then they turned to Kosh, who had not taken a single action during the altercation. He still did not move as they closed around him, but he said, “Leave now. You may take them, but I am not for you.”

Apparently Delenn meant nothing to him. Me carrying that ridiculous ring of his meant nothing. You have no idea how much I wanted to have enough control over my mouth to say the words ‘traitorous bastard’. 

“We have orders for all four,” one of the humans said. 

“Leave,” Kosh said again.

They did not listen; I think because they were stupid and felt that they were numerous enough to bring him down as they had done to G’Kar. They came towards him as they had come towards us.

They were not so cocky when they were all blown off their feet by a shockwave strong enough to flip me end over end. I found myself pressed against the wall, Delenn all but plastered against me. 

The humans looked confused more than anything, like there was some question where that blast had come from. Most of them were at least smart enough to shrink away when Kosh started moving to leave, but one of them reached for the PPG that had been knocked out of his hand.

He raised his weapon and said, “Stop.”

“You will not harm me,” Kosh said.

The man fired. A forcefield sprung up around Kosh, flaring bright before disappearing. Kosh turned his gaze upon that human, and the idiot simply died. He bled out of his ears and his nose and his mouth and his eyes, and he died. 

As he passed us, Kosh looked at me again. I stared at him, and tried to demand he stay and assist us. I tried to demand he tell me what I was supposed to do with one ugly ring, and how I was to know when ‘the time was right’. I tried to think the thoughts so hard he could not help but hear them.

And all he said to me was “Learn.” And then he left. And then I felt a needle in my neck, and I do not know what happened after.


	4. Ambassador Kosh Naranek

— Entire transcript of Security Chief Michael Garibaldi’s interview with Ambassador Kosh Naranek —

Survival in an avalanche depends on the subtle arrangement of stones. Now leave.


	5. Vir Cotto

— Extract from Security Chief Michael Garibaldi’s interview with Vir Cotto —

You want to interview me? Are you sure? Lennier and Na’Toth did a lot more than I did. Oh, you’ve already … of course. Just tell me what you want to know. 

It probably started when Londo and the others got kidnapped. Or when the Earthers planned their kidnapping. Oh! Or maybe it started even before that, like Kosh says. You really interviewed him? How did that go? 

At least he’s consistent. That must be nice.

For me, I’d say it began around three o’clock in the morning, station time. See, I was looking at the clock a lot. Londo tends to be late, especially from parties, but he’s never out all night without telling me. It isn’t safe, you know? A man in his position has to be careful. Londo’s not always good at ‘careful’, but he always contacts me, even if he just does it so he can tell me not to make breakfast. So when he hadn’t checked in at three I started to get nervous. And when he still hadn’t checked in at four, I got really, really nervous.

I started to think of people I could ask. Of course there were people like Commander Sinclair and Lieutenant Commander Ivanova. But what if Londo was just at the casino or the Dark Star? Or one of the other bars? I didn’t want to bother them until I was sure something was wrong.

But then I checked the news station on the monitor, and I saw the reports of a riot in the Zocalo, and that’s when I panicked. I knew one person was guaranteed to know where Londo was and what he was doing. The news of the riot finally convinced me to risk asking Ambassador G’Kar. I’m not sure why he pays such close attention to Londo, but it might have something to do with those two not really liking one another very much. 

So I threw on my coat, ran to the lift, and went down a floor. And that’s when I saw him. The dead man. The human dead man, I mean. Not that there was another dead man, but I just wanted to be clear. Anyway, there he was close to G’Kar’s quarters. Seeing him there sent my panic up to levels I don’t usually experience. And I work for Londo. I have experienced a lot of panic. 

I ran all the way to G’Kar’s quarters and hit the call button as hard as I could as often as I could. The door popped open, and I ran inside. “Ambassador!” I shouted.

He wasn’t there. Instead I was up against the wall before I knew what hit me. My feet weren’t touching the ground, and there was a hand around my throat. And can I just say that Narns are very frightening up close? That goes double for Narn females. 

“Please don’t kill me!” I said, or tried to say around the hand that was strangling me. It probably came out a little garbled. 

Na’Toth—oh, it was Na’Toth who was trying to kill me, not some other Narn female in G’Kar’s quarters—said, “Tell me what you have done with Ambassador G’Kar and I’ll kill you quickly.”

“Is he missing?” I wheezed. That wasn’t good.

She threw me onto the floor. I really don’t know how you do it, getting beat up on a regular basis. It’s only happened to me a few times, and I can tell you that I don’t want it to happen ever again. 

She said, “Do not play coy with me, Centauri. Why else would one of your kind come here?”

I was winded. I couldn’t breathe, and I definitely couldn’t speak. She slammed her hand against the wall right above my head, and pulled my crest when she did it. 

I don’t have a thick enough crest I can stand to lose any, and all of a sudden I guess I got mad. I batted at her hands. “Ow! Stop that! What do you mean, I wouldn’t be here unless I knew what happened to G’Kar? You people are terrifying! If I knew what happened to him, I would be hiding in a corner of my quarters with a security lock on! I came here because Londo’s missing too, and I thought G’Kar could tell me where he was, but now they’re both gone. Which either means I’m going to have to pour Londo into bed in a few hours after he’s finished arguing with G’Kar and drinking his weight in brivari, or … or something really bad has happened. So why don’t you let me up, and we can find out? Because honestly, beating me up is going to be a waste of both of our time.”

I uncurled a little and peeked out from under the arm I was using to try and shield my head. She stared at me up close, and I leaned back even harder against the wall. It’s hard to keep your breathing steady when you’re convinced you’re going to get your arms ripped off. 

“You truly know nothing?” she asked.

“Not a thing. I started to get nervous about an hour ago, and when I came down and found the horribly bloody dead human in the corridor I panicked and came here. If you could not try to kill me again, I think I could work on the panic.” 

She let go of my crest and stood up. I tried to do the same, but my legs hadn’t forgotten to be afraid, and they shook too badly. Na’Toth grabbed me by the arm and dragged me up. “You quiver like Minbari flarn. Did your ambassador never teach you not to show a potential enemy weakness?”

“Londo mostly taught me to make cocktails and lie to officials back home.” 

She let me go when she was certain I wasn’t going to pass out. Then she said, “I have inspected these quarters. Ambassador G’Kar has not been here since before the gathering.”

“That’s when I last saw Londo. I was doing some filing in his quarters right up until I came down here.”

“Unfortunately I only arrived here a few minutes ago myself, after I heard about the riots. I found the dead human at that time, but did not bother with him. I assumed Ambassador G’Kar had dispatched him and would require my services. As that does not seem to be the case, we should search the body.”

“Shouldn’t security do that? He is in the corridor, after all. That makes him their concern.”

Na’Toth left. I stuck my head outside just in time to see her sling the body over her shoulder and walk back, dumping it inside the door as I scrambled to get out of the way. “And now he is on Narn soil, and he is my concern. Are you going to join me in this investigation, Centauri, or will you flap your hands at me all night?” 

Honestly, I didn’t want to get any closer to the human. He reeked of blood and it was making me queasy. But she was being so hostile, and I could just hear Londo telling me that the honor of the Centauri Republic was on the line. So I crouched down as she started turning his pockets inside out.

“I have a name, you know,” I said. “It’s Vir. We met before at the Earther religious ceremony.”

She looked me over in a way that made me want to make certain my waistcoat was on straight. “I am aware of your name, Centauri,” she said. “We have a file on you. It’s quite short.”

Hearing that I’m not all that special is pretty old news. It doesn’t make me mad anymore.

I saw a scrap of cloth in the human’s hand. I grabbed it and held it up to the light. It was purple, covered with tiny flowers in pink and green. 

“What is that?” Na’Toth demanded. “Is that Centauri fabric?”

I was about to ask her if she was serious, but I could tell she was. Our cultures are so different, you know? “You may have been trained in protecting people,” I said, “but a Centauri political aide is trained in administrative work, cooking, and fashion.” And poisons, too, but I wasn’t even able to pick up a poisoned needle without dropping it and washing my hands for an hour. So she didn’t need to know about that. “This, Na’Toth, is fine Minbari silk.” 

She did seem sort of impressed, which was a first. “Ambassdor Delenn,” she said.

“Maybe we should go to her quarters,” I said. “With any luck, the three of them were attacked, fought off the human, and then went to her quarters to wait through the riot before calling security.”

Na’Toth picked up the human again and dropped him back in the corridor. “Someone else can find him,” she said. “We do not have the time to deal with it. Come, Vir.”

I was grinning from ear to ear. She had called me by name and we were working together. I felt like we were the very embodiment of the spirit of the station. Well, maybe not covered in human blood. Because I would never insinuate that your people should be hurt in the pursuit of interstellar peace.

Anyway. We rode the lift up the two floors to Green Two. It was really smart of you to stack our quarters on top of one another like that. It makes communication so easy. I’m sure the ambassadors appreciate it. Or they would if they, you know, ever talked to one another.

Delenn’s quarters were closed, and there weren’t any signs of dead humans, so it seemed like things might turn out all right. Na’Toth buzzed the door while I waited. 

Then door slid open. “Delenn!” we heard. Lennier came running up and stared at us both. “You are … not Delenn.”

Lennier was holding his hands so tightly together in front of him I worried he’d fall apart if he let go. I had the piece of silk in my hand, and I didn’t want to show him in case he broke. But I had to. “Could we come in?” I asked.

“I am waiting for Ambassador Delenn,” he said. “Please come back later.”

“We have information regarding her situation,” Na’Toth said.

“Come in.”

We did, and I held out the silk. “Londo’s been missing since the reception.”

“As has Ambassador G’Kar,” Na’Toth said.

“We found a dead human near G’Kar’s quarters, and he had this in his hand. We thought …”

Lennier snatched the silk from me and cradled it in his palms. “I swore I would protect her,” he said. He sounded so heartbroken.

I wanted to make it better. I wanted to make everything better, so I said, “We’ll get Delenn back, Lennier. We’ll get them all back from whatever happened to them.”

Lennier closed his hands around the silk. “Of course,” he said. “I must not doubt.”

Na’Toth didn’t have any problem doubting. “That would be easier if we knew what happened. The human is dead, security is responding to a riot, no one has contacted us with any sort of ransom demand, and if we go to the commander we may start a diplomatic incident.”

“Of course we have to go to the commander!” Lennier said. “It is his duty to see to their safe return. He has more resources at his disposal than we do, and he likely has some sort of security footage. We do not have time to wait. We have to find out what happened and respond now.”

“Do you think that he will be able to keep this from our governments?” Na’Toth asked. “I do not know if the Minbari or the Centauri value their representatives, but the Narn regime will send a ship to investigate, and if Ambassador G’Kar is found to be dead they may not be discerning in their vengeance.”

“The Minbari—” and then Lennier cut himself off. “The Minbari will send the warrior caste. They will not take kindly to Delenn’s disappearance. Their history with the loss of valued representatives is not as rational as one could hope.”

They both looked at me. “My government will probably send a strongly worded letter,” I said.

We stood there in Delenn’s quarters with no idea how to handle what was shaping up to be a huge problem. I tried to imagine what Londo would do and came up with ‘drink more and then get devious’. 

“Do you have any brivari?” I asked.

“Minbari do not metabolize alcohol well,” Lennier said.

“Oh.”

“What if we approached this indirectly?” Na’Toth asked. “To approach the commander himself could start at least two wars and one irritated letter. This, I think we can agree, is unacceptable.”

“Yes,” Lennier said.

“But we require the resources of the command staff in order to determine what’s happened and how we can save our ambassadors.” 

“So how do we get the command staff’s information without asking the command staff?” I asked. 

“We ask someone else,” Na’Toth said. “I have heard of at least one individual close to the command staff who is also pragmatic enough to keep a secret.”

“Who?” I asked.

“Doctor Franklin,” she said. “He maintains a free clinic in the Down Below, ostensibly for the Lurkers, but Ambassador G’Kar has availed himself of it for less … dignified problems.” She smiled a little. I think other people’s discomfort may be her favorite thing in the universe. “Doctor Franklin insisted G’Kar keep the existence of the clinic to himself. Apparently the humans consider such things illegal.” 

Lennier said, “Doctor Franklin’s willingness to go against his own laws for what he believes to be right is a good indication he will help us.”

Na’Toth said, “The trick will be getting in and out unseen.”

“That would probably be easier if only one of us went,” I said. “A Minbari, a Narn and a Centauri walking around together are bound to attract attention.”

“And which one of us should go?” Na”Toth said.

“You,” I said. Before she could argue I said, “If Ambassador G’Kar has been there already, you being there is going to attract a lot less attention than either of us showing up.”

She crossed her arms and looked skeptical. She’s really good at that. “What will you two be doing while I’m … slumming it?”

“We can’t be certain that Doctor Franklin can or will help us, and I can think of at least one other person who might be able to.” I couldn’t quite look at them when I said, “So I think Lennier and I should go and talk to Ambassador Kosh.”

I glanced at them, and it may have been the first time in history a Minbari and a Narn wore the exact same gobsmacked expression. Another victory for interstellar peace. 

“Is this a demonstration of Centauri humor?” Na’Toth asked.

“You have to admit: even if he wasn’t there he probably knows what happened.”

Lennier swallowed hard, but he raised his chin and looked me in the eye. “If courage is required for the task at hand,” he said, “then I shall not waver. You’ll have me by your side, Vir.”

We haven’t spent a lot of time together, but I can just tell Lennier and I are going to be friends. 

Na’Toth said, “You are both fools, but it is not a dreadful plan.” She turned on her heel and went to the door, calling over her shoulder, “Try not to die, Centauri. It would inconvenience us all.”

The door closed behind her and I said, “I think she’s beginning to like me.”

“You have very odd notions.”

“I’ve been told that before. Want to go visit a Vorlon?”

Lennier said, “Want does not enter into this, but I have pledged myself to our endeavor and I will see it through.” He bowed a little in that Minbari way—you know the bow with the hands in a sort of triangle shape? I think it’s a sign of respect. Or just something they do to everyone.

“Good! That’s good.” I started to get scared then, realizing exactly what we were about to do. “Right. Alien sector?”

“Alien sector,” Lennier said.

We didn’t draw too much attention on our way, but that might have been because we didn’t see anyone until we got to the airlocks, and then we had to put on those masks. That was more of a challenge than I thought it was going to be. Lennier got his on all right—probably because he doesn’t have hair. Me, well, you’re not supposed to let your crest get mussed in public. It’s considered a grave dishonor to your house. 

But Londo was missing, and I knew I couldn’t back out of the plan. So I said, “Promise you won’t mention this to anyone,” and then let the mask squash two grooves out of my crest.

Lennier looked at me and my hair and just said, “I will take a vow of silence regarding the entire incident.”

We went in. I always forget how fascinating the aliens in that sector are. I mean, you start to think that all life in the universe looks pretty much like a Centauri with minor modifications. But then you see the people in the alien sector, and it’s just fantastic that there’s so much diversity to life in the universe!

What was I talking about? Oh, Kosh. We got to his quarters, and Lennier rang the bell. Nothing happened, and I started to worry that maybe Kosh had been kidnapped too. If Kosh had been kidnapped that was a whole new level of dangerous. 

Then the door opened. No one said anything, but what could we do? This talk could be the difference between saving Londo and losing him. And it was sort of my day to charge into unknown quarters and maybe face death. So I walked in, and Lennier followed me.

And there he was. Does Kosh seem bigger to you in person? Because he really does to me. Lennier grabbed my arm. “Ambassador,” he said, and bowed.

I bowed too, a little late and definitely not graceful. “Ambassador Kosh.”

He said, “We have come because … because—”

“Because our ambassadors are missing. All three of them. We thought you might know what happened to them.”

He just looked at us. His iris didn’t change—there was no indication he even heard us. 

“We wish to ask for your assistance,” Lennier added.

“Please,” I said. “They could die. It could lead to war—or very strong protests, but probably war. That has to matter to you. Do you know anything about what happened to them?” He still didn’t speak. “Anything?”

And then I heard this whispery sound and he said, “It is not my concern.”

I could feel Lennier sag behind me. “Thank you, Ambassador,” he said, and he was back to sounding brokenhearted.

He should never have to sound so sad. I stood up as straight as I could and I said, “You still haven’t answered my question.”

“Vir!” Lennier hissed in my ear. “We must respect his judgment.”

“He is not Londo Mollari; I do not have to respect his judgment, and we need to know this!” I held my ground. “Do you know anything about their disappearances, Ambassador?”

“Leave,” Kosh said.

I squeezed my eyes closed and said, “No.”

“Oh, Valen help me,” Lennier said, and then stepped out from behind me. I opened my eyes to see him at my side. “Ambassador Kosh,” he said, “Delenn has been a long-time ally of yours. If you do not do this for us, do this for her.”

“You stand together,” Kosh said. “A third should stand with you.”

“Na’Toth is busy somewhere else,” I said, “but she does stand with us.”

Kosh turned away from us and said, “Then you are well arranged. Homeguard. That is all I have for you.”

Lennier practically dragged me out, bowing all the way. He’s a lot stronger than he looks. When the door finally closed he straightened up and we stared at one another.

“You are insane,” Lennier said.

“We didn’t die, and we got the information. I know Minbari don’t gamble, but I would say we just beat the house.”

I’m not sure I convinced Lennier that I wasn’t insane, but he started smiling a little, so maybe we were crazy together. “We must find Na’Toth,” Lennier said. “Doctor Franklin will be able to do more with this information than we can.”

So off we went, me and Lennier, maybe crazy. He was nice enough to wait in the airlock with me while I fixed my hair and made certain I wasn’t going to embarrass everyone by looking droopy. He even made sure no one came in until I was done. He’s a genuinely nice person, you know? We could use more people like Lennier in the universe, and I was happy to have him by my side.


	6. Doctor Stephen Franklin

— Extract from Security Chief Michael Garibaldi’s interview with Doctor Stephen Franklin —

So a Narn, a Minbari and a Centauri walk into a free clinic. Sorry, I had to.

Let’s start again. There I was in my free clinic—look, I know that you know it exists. You’ve probably known since the beginning, but let’s keep this between us. No, I’m not asking you to go behind Sinclair’s back. I just … this is important, Michael. These people wouldn’t get help if I didn’t offer it. They can’t afford to pay. What kind of doctor—what kind of man would I be if I left them there, knowing that a few hours out of my week could mean the difference between life and death?

Thanks. I owe you one.

Anyhow, back to what happened. I’d just finished seeing a Drazi couple expecting their third clutch of children. They left after a routine appointment and I started to hear this argument outside. Sort of whispered, but loud enough I could still overhear.

“Did I imagine the conversation in which we agreed it would be too conspicuous if we came together?”

“No, but we have new information!”

“We thought it was more prudent to provide Doctor Franklin with everything we know so that he can build upon that foundation.”

“I reiterate what I said before: the two of you are fools. But you are fools who have managed to survive, which does inspire some degree of confidence.”

And then who should walk through my door, but Na’Toth, Vir, and Lennier. She looked irritated, they looked guilty as hell. What can I say? There’s a certain commonality amongst the people from up above who wait until my anonymous free clinic to get treatment, and it isn’t the pricing. I saw those particular expressions on those particular faces, and I drew what seemed to be the logical conclusion.

“I don’t even want to know,” I said.

“But we haven’t said anything yet!” said Vir.

“Look,” I said, “I don’t see any bleeding, and everyone’s limbs seem present and accounted for.” I shot Vir a look. “I hope.”

“Um,” he said. My patients tend to be helpful like that.

“So this is my best advice: Na’Toth, they aren’t as hardy as you, so be careful; Vir, always ask before you try anything, and I mean anything; and Lennier,” I tried to come up with advice for a Minbari who, up until that moment, I had thought of more or less a monk, “just never be afraid to say no. Oh, and all three of you, before you do anything potentially dangerous, do your research.”

They all stared at me like I was a telepath. Kids. They always think they invented sex.

And then Vir said, “We already did some research.”

There’s research, and there’s ‘research’, so I asked them what sort they’d been doing.

And Lennier said, “We asked Kosh.”

That’s what finally bumped the conversation up into my personal top ten strangest while practicing medicine. I didn’t want to know, but I had to ask, “Why Kosh?”

Lennier said, “Kosh knows many things,” like that somehow made sense.

“All due respect to the ambassador,” I said, “but I don’t think it’s his area of expertise.”

“That’s why we have come to you, Doctor,” Na’Toth said. “We require your aid and your discretion. And while general advice is appreciated, we also require more specific information.”

Now, I love helping people. I love being able to help the Lurkers, who don’t get nearly the help they need. But the cases that come from up above? They do not pay me enough for those cases. But I am a professional, so all I said was, “I take it things haven’t gone as well as you hoped.”

They all sat down on the chairs I’d set up, huddled together and miserable. “You have a gift for understatement,” Lennier said.

“I have many talents,” I said. I was going to hate myself for asking, but I am a doctor, and they needed help. “So, who did what, and where did it go wrong?”

Vir said, “Kosh told us that it was someone or something called Homeguard. And we’re pretty certain it went wrong at the diplomatic reception. Maybe shortly after.”

“Sometime between the hours of 1930 and 0400,” Lennier said.

“They managed to dispatch at least one assailant. A human. I trust security has discovered him by now, but may not have identified him,” Na’Toth said.

“Wait, what are you talking about?”

They all three said, “Kidnapping.”

“What are you talking about?” Lennier asked.

And wasn’t that incredibly awkward? I was trying to come up with the best way to phrase it, but Vir figured it out before I could say a thing. I swear, Michael, I had no idea until that moment that Centauri not only have a blush response, but it’s to the exact same stimuli as it is for humans. Some people may argue that’s evidence of panspermia, but I prefer the notion that as much as we know about biology, there’s a whole universe we don’t.

“Oh,” Vir managed to say.

Na’Toth looked at him, then at me, and then she said, “Doctor, if you were not in such a position of respect, I would kill you where you sat.”

“I have no idea what any of you are speaking of,” Lennier said.

“Nothing at all,” Na’Toth said. And that was that.

I was more than ready for a safer topic. “So you came to me about a kidnapping.”

They launched into a story about dead bodies and silk and suspected kidnappings. All they knew for certain was that Londo, G’Kar and Delenn had gone missing, and that Na’Toth and Vir found a body in the hallway clutching a scrap of fabric belonging to Delenn. And that Kosh pointed them at the Homeguard. Which, all things considered, was damn ominous.

And left me wondering what the hell they expected me to do about it. Which was my next question.

“We were hoping you could access the security footage,” Lennier said. “If word reached Minbar about this incident, it could lead to an attack on the station. We believe in the mission of _Babylon 5_ , and we don’t want it to end. That will require a measure of secrecy.”

“Or you could access Earth intelligence files and tell us what this ‘Homeguard’ is, and what they may have done with our ambassadors,” Na’Toth said.

Well, of course I told them about Homeguard. They needed my help, and it sounded like the ambassadors sure as hell needed my help. I told them what Homeguard was, and how they planned to drive all alien life off earth. I was honestly surprised that Vir seemed as in the dark as the other two. “I thought you knew about Homeguard,” I said to him. “They were the ones who attacked your cousin a few weeks ago.”

Vir could not have looked more surprised. “No, I … I thought it was just a few crazy people. I didn’t know they were part of a larger organization.” Then his eyes narrowed. Vir’s never struck me as the smartest of the aides, but he’s cannier than people give him credit for. “Did they have an ultimate goal on the station? I mean, attacking random non-humans isn’t actually going to do much to drive us off Earth or pull Earth out of interstellar politics.”

How was I supposed to know no one mentioned to them what Homeguard had intended to do? It hadn’t even crossed my mind that they wouldn’t know! That the entire station didn’t know! I understand now that it was probably done to avoid unnecessary panic, but really. Someone should have told the ambassadors something.

“Homeguard was planning a mass assassination of all four senior members of the advisory board,” I said. “The commander arrested everyone involved, and I know he increased security. He must have thought the threat was gone.”

“And an excellent job he made of it,” Na’Toth said.

“We should have been informed immediately if there was a plot to assassinate the ambassadors,” Lennier said. “How can we perform our duties if we are not informed of potential threats?”

“Why weren’t we told?” Vir asked.

“I don’t know.” What was I supposed to say, Michael? As far as I’m concerned we dropped the ball, and I wasn’t going to try and hush it up with the ambassadors missing. Na’Toth looked like she was inches away from killing me; Vir just looked crushed.

Lennier clenched his hands together in his lap. “It does not matter. Whatever your reasons, we were not informed, and now Delenn is likely in the hands of the very organization that planned her murder only a few weeks ago.”

“Is there any possibility they aren’t dead?” Vir asked.

I thought it over. I don’t like making calls without adequate information, but we’ve seen how Homeguard operates. They like a big show for maximum effect. “It’s possible,” I said. “They probably want to make a production out of it, prompt the biggest reactions. That may take a little time.”

“Hardly any,” Na’Toth said.

“Then we don’t have time to waste,” I said. “Do you trust me?”

“No,” she said.

Lennier said, “I want to, but at the moment I find it nearly impossible.”

Vir shifted around in his seat, and then said, “I trust you. I don’t have much of a choice, do I?”

“I am going to get you the information you need,” I said. “But I won’t be able to tell you how I got it.”

“Unacceptable,” Na’Toth said.

“We don’t have a choice!” Vir told her.

“We always have a choice,” Lennier said, “but in this case, it is between trusting Doctor Franklin’s source and doing nothing.”

Na’Toth looked frustrated, but finally said, “If you betray us and they die, neither your position nor the respect you’ve earned will protect you from me.”

They left together, still in their huddle. The line of patients watched them go. Probably didn’t think much of it. You see all sorts of things Down Below. But I could feel the weight of what I had to do. I leaned out the door and told my nurse that clinic would have to resume the next day, that I had urgent business.

I didn’t go into this wanting to get involved. I’m not a politician or a soldier; I’m a doctor. But I couldn’t ignore this, especially if it was somehow our fault.

I went to Ivanova. What? They don’t know her. They see the uniform and figure she’ll have to tell EarthGov about something like this. I know better, and I knew I couldn’t access the sorts of records we would need without her clearance. It turns out I was late to the party. Ivanova was already in C&C and working on the problem. “Whatever it is, it will have to wait,” she said the second I walked through the door. “We’re in the middle of a crisis.”

“Does that crisis have something to do with Delenn, Londo and G’Kar being kidnapped by Homeguard?”

She stopped what she was doing, straightened up and turned to me very slowly. In case you were wondering, Ivanova’s smile is a lot more frightening than her frown. She walked over, slung an arm around my shoulder and said, “Stephen, you are going to tell me everything you know. And you are going to do it now.”

I told her everything.

When I was done she said, “I don’t know what Kosh is playing at, but he and I are going to have a long talk once this is over. I don’t care if he squashes me like a bug.”

“Tell me you have security footage,” I said.

“We do. It’s blurry, but their assailants are definitely human and no one I recognize. They were armed with PPGs and shock sticks. They managed to overwhelm Londo, G’Kar and Delenn, but not Kosh.”

“I take it Kosh didn’t bother to save them.”

“See for yourself,” she said. We watched as a patched-together sequence of security footage showed the fight right up until the Homeguard went after Kosh. You know, the one that whites out at the end.

“What the hell was that?” I asked after I’d seen it.

“EM spike,” she said. “Maybe something Kosh did. When the cameras came back on line everyone was gone but the dead man.”

She switched the feed to a few hallway shots, each of them showing the same group of people hauling the same unconscious bodies. There were more than three bodies being carried, but I figure they had to carry a few of their comrades too. In one of the shots they stopped, huddled up for a few seconds, and then the entire group vanished.

“Damn,” I said. “They could be anywhere.”

“No, they could not,” Ivanova said. “After the last attacks we recalibrated the sensors to pick up the emissions from the camouflage units. When we realized what was happening, I checked the log and found their signatures moving all the way to docking.”

“They’re gone,” I said, “aren’t they?”

“We’ll find them.”

I like Ivanova, and not in small part because I always know where I stand with her. So when she started softening the truth I started to get really scared. I thought about those kids down in my clinic, all inches away from cracking under the sudden pressure. And we hadn’t only let their ambassadors get kidnapped, we let them get taken off the station to God knows where.

I know you wouldn’t have let that happen if you’d been here. I know you’ve been going through everyone’s performances in this and doing serious evaluations. I just want to say that I appreciate what you’re doing. This sort of thing can’t be allowed to happen again. It just can’t.

“Do we know what ship they took?” I asked.

“A private transport called the Belle Petit left fifteen minutes after they went into the docking bay. They had just gone through the jumpgate when one of the guards got back to the security office and saw what had happened. The Belle Petit’s flight information was logged, but its crew manifest was bogus. I called up the names, and they only exist on paper.”

We both knew someone had to have set this up, someone with resources and connections. Someone who might have recently come aboard under false pretenses. It might not have been a water-tight conclusion, but I knew who I’d have in the interrogation room. “I guess you’ll be talking to the Earth diplomats,” I said.

“The commander is seeing to it personally.”

“Dare I ask why security isn’t handling it?” I asked.

“It begins with Senator Hidoshi and ends with Sinclair bawling out the entire security staff. That’s all I’m going to say.”

“What about Earth?”

“He hasn’t bawled out the entire planet yet, no.”

“I mean, does EarthGov know what’s happened to the ambassadors?”

“As soon as we started questioning their diplomats they knew. By the time Sinclair contacted Senator Hidoshi, the government was already embroiled in a debate about what to do. They have ordered Sinclair to take no actions until they come to a decision.”

“That could be days.”

“Which the ambassadors almost certainly do not have. I know. But there are more powerful people than we thought with sympathy for the Homeguard cause, and now that we propose a direct move against them, even a rescue, they’ve begun dragging their feet.” Ivanova tapped at her station for a few minutes. Then, to my surprise, she smiled just a little. “Did those three honestly think we had no idea what was going on?”

And in spite of the dire situation, I started grinning. The looks on their faces, Michael! You should have been there. I told her, “They were trying very hard to be stealthy. I felt too bad to break it to them that they were about as subtle as a brick to the face.”

“And they think they’re going to rescue the ambassadors on their own?”

“Seems to be the working plan.”

“So there is a plan. That’s encouraging. What is it?”

“Find out what Homeguard’s done with the ambassadors, ride to the rescue, victory.”

“Hail the valiant heroes.”

“What do we plan on doing, Susan?”

She frowned. “Work with EarthForce security to get enough information to pinpoint their location. Work with EarhGov to get permission to send a squadron of Starfuries after them before it’s too late. Keep all other parties in the dark as long as we can to avoid unnecessary confrontation. Ride to the rescue. Victory.”

“Hail the valiant heroes.”


	7. Ambassador Delenn

— Extract from Security Chief Michael Garibaldi’s interview with Ambassador Delenn —

I apologize for not being able to speak with you until now. I had much to discuss with my government, including how much I was permitted to tell you. We have reached a compromise: I will not waive diplomatic immunity, but I will tell you what I can of this incident. I hope that will be enough.

I know, Mister Garibaldi, but I am not Ambassador Mollari or Ambassador G’Kar. What they choose to do, I cannot control. I can simply tell you what I will do.

Allow me to begin from the point after we had been taken. I presume much of what happened before is on your security cameras, and you do not need my own version when such unvarnished facts exist. When the initial confusion of our capture had passed we attempted to determine where we were and if there was a way out.

It was a planned abduction, certainly, by an organized group of people. I could not help but think about the attack on Shaal Mayan those few weeks ago. That was also planned and perpetrated by a small group of humans. When it was done I had presumed all parties involved had been arrested by your people … but perhaps I should take greater care with my presumptions.

G’Kar tested the paneling in the walls, hoping to pry one away and access the electronics. Londo looked at the door, and I climbed atop the taller stacks of crates to find some loose ceiling panel or air vent. Our work was accompanied by a steady stream of arguments flowing between the two of them.

After some time, Londo kicked the door and slumped against it. “It is impregnable,” he said.

“Giving up so easily, Mollari?” G’Kar asked. “So very predictable. You have no staying power.”

“Funny, I have heard the same about Narns. What is it, a few minutes and then done?”

“Whereas the Centauri bore their partners to sleep before anything interesting can happen.”

“Do your partners even notice you have been there?”

On and on they went, building up toward a genuine fight with accusations and insinuations more outrageous by the minute. Tranquility of spirit inspires similar attitudes in one’s fellows. But there is only so far my patience can stretch. After hearing them argue for nearly ten minutes about absolutely nothing, I was finished being tranquil.

“Perhaps,” I said as I tried and failed to maintain a neutral tone, “the two of you could spend a little less time insulting one another and a little more time working to save our lives. Unless your petty arguments matter more to you.”

Their voices overlapped. “How dare you imply—” G’Kar began.

“I do not see you doing more—” Londo went on.

“—impugning my—”

“—how can you even—”

“Shut up!” I shouted. Their mouths snapped closed, but still they spluttered at me, ready to argue again at any moment. I leaped down from the crates to stare down their resistance, and in so doing I forced myself to understand them as well as I hoped they understood me. I looked beyond their constant, petty disputes, and I saw the fear. I knew that fear. It was something we all shared. Perhaps they coped with it by baiting one another, but I could not stand much more of that particular type of coping.

“Do you wish to die?” I asked them.

“Of course not!” Londo said.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” said G’Kar.

“I do not wish to die either,” I said, “and so I ask you both to work together. Tomorrow you may go back to loathing one another, but today … I want to see all of us safely back to _Babylon 5_. Please help me.”

Inch by inch they deflated. “Very well,” Londo said. “But I will not turn my back on him.”

“Nor I on him.”

It is sometimes prudent to take what one can get.

“I do not wish to rain on our glorious escape,” Londo said, “but I have tried the door several times, and if G’Kar can be trusted, the walls are of no more help than the door. How are we planning to escape, hmm? Pretend one of us is ill while the others lie in wait on either side of the door?”

“That is,” GKar said, “not altogether an awful plan. Do you think it would work?”

It sounded to me like a ridiculous plan, and not one G’Kar was likely to agree to. Then he looked up as though indicating something above his head. I followed his gaze and saw small but noticeable surveillance device mounted over the door. I was facing it, while Londo was facing away from it, and G’Kar stood in partial profile. When I looked back at him, G’Kar smiled at me, telling me without words to play along. I said, “I am not certain. Minbari are bound to tell the truth or dishonor their clan, but humans are more used to deceit.”

“Do they even care if one of us is ill?” Londo asked. His hand pressed to his midsection. A look of surprise passed across his face, and then speculation. He whispered, “Delenn, I have something—”

G’Kar said, “Even if they don’t care, that much information about their motives might be helpful.”

“Who would be sick?” I asked.

“Mollari is the loudest,” G’Kar said, “but I suspect you will elicit more sympathy.” His voice dropped to a breath. “But before we do, could we perhaps come up with a genuine plan?”

“That is what I—” Londo began again, only to be cut off by G’Kar once more.

“Delenn, you should go back up the crates. After a while, pretend to become dizzy.”

“But heights do not bother me.”

“They do now,” G’Kar said. “You will then climb down unsteadily. Mollari will go over to you, and then you will collapse. Mollari, we are counting on your ability to panic. I trust you can manage.”

“This is ridiculous!” Londo said. “They will never believe it. I thought you were a master tactician, G’Kar. I could think of a better plan in my sleep.”

“This was your plan to begin with!” G’Kar’s voice dropped once more. “When that produces no results, I will accuse you of dreaming up an incredibly stupid plan and attack you.”

“What will that accomplish?” I asked, careful to phrase it in such a way that our captors would think I was referring to his pounding on the door. Minbari do not engage in stealth traditionally, but we are capable of much adaptation.

“Do you actually think two terrible plans combine to make a good one?” Londo hissed. I had not known until that moment that he was capable of whispering. His accent drew his words out on breaths and sibilants. “This is an equally stupid plan. Now listen—”

“It is an absolutely serviceable plan! We’ve broadcast our terrible idea, so no one with any intelligence will ever believe it. But Mollari and I have also conveyed our enmity, so they are far more likely to believe it when I attack him. If they wish to keep us all alive, they will have to intercede before I kill him.”

“Or you could listen to me and—” Londo demanded.

“And what? Pretend to be ill? My plan has the benefit of a win-win situation: if they come in we can escape, and if they do not, you die.”

“Give it your best shot, you spotty, overconfident ass!”

“You had best hope the humans interrupt me, you pallid, pathetic fungus!”

I forced myself between them before our plan could preempt itself. “Gentlemen,” I said, “forgiveness may be one of the greatest abilities of sentient life, but if you two actually manage to kill one another I will not forgive either of you as long as I live!” I tugged my robe straight and breathed out hard, trying to picture my frustration drifting away on my breath. It was not as easy as it usually is. “Now,” I said when I had regained myself, “I do not like this current plan. Surely there is another way.”

“Yes, there is,” Londo said. “As I have been trying to tell you both for the last three minutes!”

His voice had risen to a pitch that was nearly loud enough to be heard by a standard listening device. We all fell silent for a moment and strained our ears for any sort of change. We heard none, and I did not know whether that was good or bad.

Londo calmed himself. Then, to my great surprise, he unbuttoned the lowest few buttons of his waistcoat and slid a hand into his shirt. I admit to some degree of ignorance when it comes to the specifics of alien physiology. It was simply not something that seemed pertinent to my duties as ambassador. So I was quite surprised when I saw a ripple of movement from underneath his shirt. I tried not to show it, as my face was the only one directly in the view of the camera.

“I don’t know what you’re doing, Mollari,” G’Kar whispered, “but now is definitely not the time.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Londo whispered back. “Kosh gave me something at the party and told me to keep it until it was needed. To hide it. I don’t know what it is, but I did hide it, and successfully enough I still have it.”

“How?” I asked.

His smile was fierce, bright in a way I rarely saw in Londo. So often he is dulled by alcohol and whatever experiences his life has thrown at him, but in that moment he looked young. “Suffice it to say there are aspects of Centauri morphology that make many other species uncomfortable.”

He drew his hand from his shirt, followed for just a moment by what looked like another, hidden appendage. It vanished back into his shirt with another ripple of movement before everything stilled. Then Londo, holding his hand close to his body and shielded from the cameras, revealed a ring with a stone of the same quality the Vorlon make their ships out of. An organic ring, Mister Garibaldi, coded to do just about anything. My people are closer than yours to understanding Vorlon technology, and it still makes little to no sense to us.

“I do not know what this does,” Londo said, “but whatever it is, I would say we could use it now.”

“That is Vorlon technology,” I whispered, barely moving my lips. I was terrified that our captors would be able to tell what I was saying and take it from us. “Have you tried to put it on?”

He tried, but despite being large enough, it would not fit on his finger. G’Kar stole a glance toward the camera, then grabbed Londo by the wrists, hauling him about and palming the ring. He grimaced when he took it, though I could not say why. “I have told you my plan will work,” he snarled loudly enough to be overheard, but softly enough it seemed he was still trying to keep his voice down.

“Enough!” I said, my voice echoing after such quiet. They turned to me, and G’Kar tried the ring. It would not fit on his hand either. I stepped closer to him. “G’Kar,” I said, “we must all work together, and all be convinced of any plan. We will fail if we do not trust in the rightness of our actions.” He passed me the ring as we spoke.

It was strange, trying to put it on. It was as though there was an unseen barrier stopping me from fitting it to my finger. The more I pressed, still hidden by G’Kar, the more it resisted until my hand became hot and I had to draw away.

Londo joined us, still angled so that none of his actions could be seen. “I am not ruling out your plan, G’Kar,” he said and took the ring back. “I simply want more than your bluster to convince me it will work.”

Then we began whispering again. “What good is that ring if we can’t even put it on?” G’Kar demanded.

“Perhaps,” I said, “it is not yet needed.”

“Not yet needed?” Londo asked. “We have been kidnapped and are being taken Maker only knows where. If now is not the time, then when?”

“I do not know,” I said, “but I suggest you hide it again until then.”

“Could you could hide it somewhere slightly less disgusting this time?” G’Kar asked. “The notion that our potential salvation is … there is truly distasteful.”

“Jealous, G’Kar?” Londo asked, and slipped the ring back into his shirt. The movement commenced again, rippling up to his solar plexus and then stopping. “It is a pity that the universe short-changed you in both quantity and quality.”

From the expression on your face, Mister Garibaldi, I will assume you have come to the same conclusion that I did regarding the general nature of what I saw and what Londo kept in his shirt. I try to take comfort in the vast complexity that surrounds us all, and in puzzling it out. Even if some puzzles turn out to be less pleasant than I might have originally thought.

G’Kar said, “I will not even dignify that with a response,” and then looked at us both. “It appears we are left with my original plan, unless Delenn has another magic Vorlon ring tucked away somewhere unfortunate.”

I gave him my most tolerant smile. I have been told people find it somewhat disconcerting. “I do not,” I said. “I do, however, have a plan.”

“And that is?” Londo asked.

“We do nothing.”

It is pleasant to know that even people divided by such vehement disagreement can come together in saying, “What?”

I said to them again, “The ring will not work yet. Perhaps that is an indication that we are not meant to act at this time, but simply to persevere until the situation changes. It is not the proactive solution you were hoping for, but patience can be as great a virtue as persistence.”

“You want us to sit around doing nothing as we get farther and farther from _Babylon 5_?” G’Kar asked.

“Are you mad?” Londo added.

“I am proposing we watch. We consider. We analyze our enemies, so when the time is right we have all the information necessary to strike them down.”

They had nothing to say to that. Much as they drive me mad with their incessant arguments, I do like them. And I like them even better when they recognize that I am not willing to be steered by their desperation. As they settled, looking about and attempting to glean whatever information about our captors and our situation as they could from our surroundings, I promised myself that I would see them to the other side of our current trial.


	8. Commander Jeffrey Sinclair

—Extract from Security Chief Michael Garibaldi’s interview with Commander Jeffrey Sinclair—

I can’t tell you how much we missed having you here for all this, Michael. We did manage—we always do—but it was skin-of-our-teeth for a while there. I appreciate you reviewing the procedure. I don’t blame your men for this anymore, but one of them screwed up. Someone should have been in the security office to catch the kidnappers in the act. And I agree with you: that someone needs to be found and disciplined. This sort of thing can’t happen on my station.

Blame or not, I took it upon myself to personally speak to the diplomats rather than letting your men handle it. I knew the diplomats wouldn’t take kindly to questions, and that someone other than me could get the runaround for hours if they decided to invoke their diplomatic immunity. But there is no diplomatic immunity for Earth diplomats talking to an EarthForce commander on his own station. I love when the letter of the law works in my favor.

And I’ll admit, having an investigation got me out of my office. If I’d stayed, I’d have kept calling every single senator trying to get the authorization to send out our Starfuries. I’m lucky Ivanova didn’t go with you; she finally convinced me it was better to take whatever action I could on the station than to shout at every single senator on Earth.

We interrogated Mister Collins first. He had been open about his dislike of how we ran the station, and at the reception he was almost openly hostile to Ambassador Mollari. I might not have your finely honed instinct for this sort of thing, but he was the obvious suspect.

“You’ve been an outspoken advocate of the so-called ‘Earth First’ mentality,” I said. “You’ve criticized the senate on multiple occasions for working with external interests when shaping policy.”

“And I haven’t denied any of it,” he said, “but there is a large gap between what I believe and support, and what Homeguard does.”

“Enlighten me,” I said.

“I advocate that we put Earth first when shaping our internal policies. It’s that simple. We shouldn’t be trying to become more like the Minbari or the Centauri or, God forbid, the Vorlons. We’re human, Commander. That’s what makes us unique in the universe. That’s what makes us special. So I say that we should develop that separate character. Maybe that means withdrawing from the galactic stage for a few decades, until we have a better grasp of what makes a human a human and we lose our taste for accommodation of culture.”

“That sounds to me like a nicer way of saying exactly what Homeguard has been saying for years.”

“Then you aren’t listening. We can share certain fundamental beliefs about what makes the human race stronger, without me condoning their methods. Terrorism is never the solution, and while I do not want aliens in our politics, I’m not one of those people who thinks of them as little more than animals. I know they are self-aware, but they are alien to us. Alien to our core values. I advocate a gradual withdrawal and a peaceful relocation of the aliens when they are ready to leave.”

“And you would make it uncomfortable for them to stay.”

“Yes, I recommend making their legal situation more uncomfortable, affording them fewer protections, but not because I want to see them harmed. I just want them to know that they are visitors only. They weren’t born on our planet and they have no business deciding to live there.”

“But you have to admit, your plans would be accelerated if _Babylon 5_ were to fail.”

He leveled a finger at me. “Wrong again, C ommander. If _Babylon 5_ is destroyed because of this incident, I doubt the Minbari, Narn or Centauri would stop here. They would target our world in a second if they thought we had allowed their people to die. I want Earth powerful and human, not the center of a war on three fronts.”

I needed to change tactics. “Where were you last night, Mister Collins?”

“I was in Mister Egodawatte’s quarters, if you must know. He is an old friend of mine; I’ve known him since graduate school. And I know he does not sleep well in new places. So I came over for drinks and a chat to calm him down.”

“You know I’ll be interviewing him as well.”

“Be my guest,” he said. “Maybe you think that because I don’t share your views, or even that I share some views held by extremists that I am one. Maybe you think that I cannot possibly be friends with Lahiru Egodawatte, who welcomes aliens to our planet with open arms and spent three intolerable years wearing Minbari fashion. But the simple fact is that people are more complex than you hope. And last night I was guilty of nothing more than drinking too much and being terrible at Spades.”

That meant Mister Egodawatte was next on my list. I did consider that they could be in it together, of course, each acting as alibi to the other, but that was speculation. I had no evidence one way or another.

Mister Egodawatte was more than willing to talk to me. He probably figured out I had my eye on Collins as the perpetrator the second I mentioned Homeguard. He claimed that that Mister Collins had been in his quarters until Mister Egodawatte had fallen asleep. He told me Collins was there on the couch when he woke up the next morning. He told me, “Philip is a traditionalist, commander, but he is not a bad man. He is not an advocate of violence; he doesn’t even like to hear of animals being killed. He simply thinks that Earth is weakened when we are not a monolithic human culture. He cannot see how diversity strengthens us and tempers us at the same time. He will come around eventually.”

Which as far as I was concerned didn’t mean anything. Collins was still a good possibility, and Egodawatte could have acted in concert with him. I knew less about the other two, because they hadn’t come across as strongly when we first met. So I asked him about them.

“I am a representative of the Indian Consortium, Commander, and we have old ties with the American State. I went to school there, and met Mister Collins there. I have had far fewer dealings with Amazonia, which Miss Rodriguez represents, and have never met her until now. I met Mister Kim once, at a meeting in Beijing, but he also is not in my jurisdiction, so we did little more than exchange pleasantries.”

“Did either of them seem suspicious to you during the trip here? Leaving frequently, or constantly in communication with anyone?”

“We did not keep strict track of one another. Philip Collins and I spent much of our time together because we were old friends. I assume the others found ways of occupying themselves, but I could not say what those were. As for constant communication, you of all people should know that a diplomat is always in contact with someone. If not one’s own government, then other governments.”

He was too damn pleasant for my taste, but I didn’t have any other questions to ask at that time. So I let him go, thinking maybe I should have stuck to shouting at senators. Interrogating the diplomats seemed to raise more questions than it answered.

Once Mister Egodawatte had gone, Mister Welch came in. I said, “It could be either of them, or both of them, or neither of them. What do you think?”

He snorted. “All due respect, Commander, I don’t think you should have started with questions. Mister Garibaldi always says we gotta hit ‘em with the evidence until they run out of lies and start telling the truth.”

Damn good advice, by the way. I asked, “Do we have evidence? What about the riots? They have to be connected to this. There’s no way a riot just happens to coincide with the abductions.”

“We pulled the security footage of that, and of the area outside Egodawatte’s quarters. Seems like he was telling the truth. He and Collins went in after the party, and they didn’t come out all night, unless he and Collins crawled through the air vents.”

“No visitors?”

“Not even pizza delivery."

“What about the other two?”

He went to the panel on the wall and called up the grainy footage of a riot in progress. “This is where things get interesting. Now, it took us a while, but it looks like Kim spent the whole night in the casino. Same chair, same everything. He nursed one beer for hours.”

“Sounds like a man waiting for someone. Any idea who?”

“If he was waiting, no one ever showed up. I stuck the new guy on watching every minute of that footage, just in case. But Kim isn’t the one I think is interesting. Look at this.”

I suppose you’ve seen the footage. Then you know how bad that riot was. Your men made a sensible call sending all available hands down there, even if someone blew it not leaving the security office attended.

I was so focused on the violence I was seeing that I almost missed her, but the flash of that pad of hers caught the camera at just the right angle to draw my eye. “Rodriguez,” I said.

“She was at the riot for hours,” Welch said, “taking notes and pictures and everything. I asked a few of the guys who saw her there—didn’t know who she was, but remembered her face when I showed it to them—and they all thought she was creepy as hell.”

I asked him, “Do you have any footage of her with the dead man? Or anyone else?”

“Anything could have happened in that riot, sir. I know it would be a narrow window between when the riot started and when the ambassadors got snatched, but it’s possible she passed them their gear in the Zocalo during the initial confusion of the riot, then stayed there to watch.”

“But why would she be so obvious?”

“Crime makes you stupid,” he said.

I thought about it, Michael, but it just didn’t seem to add up to me. Sure, she could have done it, and so could Collins and Egodawatte, but it didn’t sound right in my head. These were all smart people, trained diplomats. If I were going to plan a kidnapping and use a riot to cover it up, I would be as far away from both as possible. Which left Collins, Egodawatte, and Kim in my mind as most likely. Mister Welch had already said they had footage of Collins and Egodawatte in a sealed room all night, and Kim at a bar. But somehow those bastards that attacked the ambassadors had enough ordinance to fill five suitcases.

And that’s when I remembered meeting them in my office for the first time, and all the bags Mister Kim had on him. Collins barely had any luggage, and Egodawatte had one bag, but Kim might as well have been moving in. What do you call it, Michael, when you finally hit on that crucial piece of evidence? A eureka moment? Well, I had one of the best eureka moments of my life.

“Check the footage before the party,” I said.

“You figure they made the drop for all that gear before the party?”

“I do. Check on all of them, but keep your attention on Kim. If I’m right, he’s our man.”

“I’ll get the new guy on it right away,” he said.

“And send in Miss Rodriguez while you work. Just because I think I’m right doesn’t mean I shouldn’t be careful.”

Miss Rodriguez came in after a few minutes, looking ready to kill. Seemed like the sort of diplomat who would run you down if you weren’t on her side.

“I was taking notes,” she told me when I asked her why she’d been at the riots. “Your station is a complicated place, as Lieutenant Commander Ivanova said. I felt it was only appropriate that we observe it at its best, and at its worst.”

“Meaning?”

“It was almost exclusively humans involved. I had expected more interspecies conflict, but the violence seems to have been turned inward. Why is that?”

“People always have differences of opinion,” I said. “That doesn’t change because aliens get added to the mix. Were you observing the riots all night, Miss Rodriguez?”

“I stayed for several hours, and then returned to my quarters and recorded what I had seen. If you doubt my story, I will show you my notes. They should correlate closely with your footage of the riot, if more specifically detailed than what I imagine you are used to.”

“I’ll need to do that,” I said.

“Very well, I will turn them over to you. In return, I would like to arrange a tour of Down Below. I have heard that the population there is also largely human. As I said, I want to see the best and the worst.”

I think you’re getting the gist of our conversation. It went on, but I couldn’t get anything more out of her than that she had been observing the riots, and she wanted to observe more. She wasn’t as open about it as Mister Collins, but Miss Rodriguez didn’t seem friendly to _Babylon 5_. She never said anything overt, but every comment was an insinuation that humans were second class citizens on the station, in spite of the fact that we’re the ones running the place. Finally I decided we’d reached an impasse and let her go.

That just left Mister Kim, but before I questioned him I wanted to see how Mister Welch had done with the security footage, and if my hunch had paid off. I walked into the security office just as Welch and a man who I didn’t recognize looked up from the monitor.

“Commander,” Mister Welch said, “You’re just in time! The new kid thinks he’s found something. It’s not concrete evidence, but it’s pretty damn solid.”

They showed me the earlier footage of the casino. I’d thought I was on the right track, but I was half doubting my own conclusions until I saw Mister Kim walk into the bathroom with his luggage, walk out without it, and a half-hour later run back in to pick it up.

“What about the people who went in after him?” I asked. “Do we have identities on any of them?”

“Not yet, sir,” Welch said. “We have one who might be the dead guy, but it’s hard to tell from this angle. But look: about twenty people go in, and maybe a dozen of them went with bags. When they go in, the bags look pretty empty.” He showed me the loop of the man walking in and then cutting to him walking out.

“Well I’ll be goddamned,” I said. I don’t know who dropped the ball in your department, but Welch is a solid man. I wouldn’t have seen the difference in the bags until he pointed it out, but they were definitely full of something when the men left. “That’s our drop. Kim set this up.”

“The rioters down in the cells aren’t very talkative right now, but give them a few hours and I bet a few of them will admit to getting paid to start it,” Welch said.

“I want those confessions, Welch,” I said, “and I want Kim in the interrogation room right now. We have our evidence; let’s hit him with it until he tells us the truth.” I looked at the young man sitting in front of the monitor. His eyes were red from staring at the screen. You have to admire the diligence that went into watching those tapes and finding all that evidence. “Good job, Mister …”

“Allan,” he said. “Zack Allan.”

“A pleasure to meet you, Mister Allan.”

“And you, sir.”

I don’t know where you dug him up, Michael, but you’ve got a good one there too.

I got back to the interrogation room just in time for Ivanova to send me Kim’s background. Bouncing through the Chinese State, Malaysia, and the Altai Federation? The man’s never held down a posting for more than three years. How the hell did he keep getting hired, and who let him come here? That’s what I want to know. It smacks of friends in high places, Michael, and I don’t like it.

When he arrived, Mister Kim was cool and collected. I decided to start out easy. “Why did you come to _Babylon 5_?” I asked him.

“Because I was asked to represent Malaysia and assess the diplomatic tactics of other species,” he said.

“You aren’t an expert in alien cultures. You’ve never interacted with other species. Why you?”

“A fresh pair of eyes.”

“Oh, come on, Mister Kim, there were dozens of people in your own office better qualified for the job than you. You’ve only worked for Malaysia for a few years, isn’t that right?”

“I have a diverse background. It makes me well suited to learning new diplomatic techniques.”

I tell you, Michael, that bastard had an answer for everything. I wanted to wipe that calm, superior expression off his face. “Or you move on before your employers find out what sort of man you really are,” I said. “Tell me, Mister Kim: when did Homeguard recruit you?”

He laughed. “Homeguard recruited me? Don’t be ridiculous. I’m a diplomat, not a terrorist.”

“You wouldn’t be the first diplomat sympathetic to their cause.”

“If you want to sit there making insulting accusations—”

“You were seen in the casino before the conference. Forget your luggage in the bathroom, Mister Kim?”

“I did, as a matter of fact. And I went back, got it, went to my room, and got ready. Then I went to the party, failed to get as friendly as I would have liked with Ambassador Delenn, and went to the casino. You saw me come on to her, Commander. Was that the act of a xenophobe?”

“You patted her on the shoulder. It’s a good way to plant a tracking device.”

“That’s speculation. You have no proof.”

“I have your luggage, Mister Kim, and I fully intend to search it.” Oh, the look on his face. I knew he was going to turn me down, and I knew his excuse would ring hollow. I was so glad the interrogation was being recorded. I wanted to show that expression to the entire senate.

“You have no right to invade my privacy,” Kim said.

“I don’t think you realize where you are, Mister Kim. You are on a military base, and I am in charge here. If I have reason to suspect you smuggled weapons and contraband equipment onto the station in your suitcases, I have every right to search them.” I leaned over that table, wanting to get as close as I could to see him crack. “What do you want to bet we turn up lead lining to dampen the radiation signatures of black-light camouflage? Or that most of them are empty now that your associates picked up their gear?”

We stared at each other, he and I. And then he said, “I would like a glass of water now, please.”

I will always remember those words, and the look on his face. He knew I had him. He knew his career was over. I don’t usually enjoy seeing despair, but right then it was sweet.

I left him in Mister Welch’s custody and went to make Hidoshi see reason. We had our perpetrator in custody. His luggage would be scanned and searched, and I was willing to bet any amount of money we’d find trace signatures from the camouflage inside. I was convinced that with that evidence, I could finally force the senate to act before it was too late. That even they couldn’t ignore cold hard facts and the risk of war.

You know what they say about politicians: they never fail to disappoint. I told Hidoshi everything, and he just looked at me like he pitied me. “Do you think this will help, Jeff?” he asked.

“It damn well better! Kim’s in custody, and he’ll tell us where they’re taking the ambassadors. And when he does, our Starfuries are going to go out and save them.”

“No, they aren’t,” he said. “I support your decision, but the rest of the senate is deadlocked. Some of them think we have no business sending EarthForce ships to rescue alien diplomats. Others think that if you fail after you’ve sent your ships, we are even more likely to receive the blame for their deaths. And still another group wants to send a cruiser that isn’t affiliated with _Babylon 5_ to show solidarity. The one thing they can agree on is that they need more time before any action can be taken. The Babylon 5 Oversight Committee is ordering you to give them that time, and take what actions are necessary to distance yourself from the situation until we’ve reached a decision.”

“Dammit, Hidoshi, you people are so busy trying to figure out the best political angle that you’re going to let my ambassadors die!”

“I can’t control the senate, Commander Sinclair!” He sighed. “I am one voice. I will continue to speak out for you, but that’s all I can do. I’ll let you know if I change their minds. Until then, watch your comm channels.”

He cut the connection, and I didn’t know what to do. I knew he was trying to do me a favor with that last statement, but damn. The situation was bad enough that the senate was monitoring our internal comm channels. They can say I have absolute authority in this sector until they’re blue in the face, but when push comes to shove the senate just loves telling me to sit down and shut up. And this time it could cost us the lives of three of the senior members of the Advisory Board. Well, not on my watch, Michael. Not on my watch.

I contacted Ivanova. We had a lot of planning to do if we were going to rescue the ambassadors without getting caught, and I needed any information she’d managed to glean from her research into Homeguard if we were going to manage to wring all the necessary information out of Mister Kim.


	9. Lennier

— Extract from Security Chief Michael Garibaldi’s interview with Lennier —

When Na’Toth and Vir arrived at Delenn’s quarters, I very nearly gave in to despair. Seeing the scrap of silk and hearing of the dead man in the hallway, I could only fear the worst. Then we met Doctor Franklin. I learned of Homeguard and their plan to assassinate the ambassadors that was weeks in the making, of what had been kept from us, and what it could cost us. Then there was no time for despair, only for fear and for purpose. 

I would not fail Delenn. This is what I told myself that as we returned to Green Sector. It was not noticeable at first, but Vir was quietly steering us until we found ourselves in Ambassador Mollari’s quarters. There he pressed us into seats and busied himself getting us drinks. 

“We do not have time for this,” I said. I needed to be useful, to feel as though we were continuing to make progress. A lull at that point would destroy our momentum and take Delenn too far out of reach.

“What would you have us do instead?” Na’Toth asked, utterly calm. It seemed as if there was little more than duty motivating her, and even that exasperated her. I could not imagine feeling as little for Delenn as she seemed to feel for G’Kar. 

It frustrated me that I could think of no specific course of action. I looked to Vir again, who waited for my decision. Na’Toth, too, was waiting. I sat heavily on an overstuffed sofa and said, “I will not drink alcohol.”

“Alcohol would be a bad idea,” Vir agreed. He frowned at the many bottles on the kitchen counter. “Unfortunately almost everything Londo owns is alcoholic.”

“And there is little guarantee that any Centauri beverages would not poison us,” Na’Toth said. 

After perusing the selection for several minutes, they ended up joining me without drinks. There were other chairs, but the sofa was large enough for all of us and there was some small comfort in the physical proximity. “I don’t know what to do now,” Vir said.

“I know several ministers within the Narn government who might be able to obtain information regarding this Homeguard and how to find them,” Na’Toth said, “but they would certainly inform the Kha’Ri of Ambassador G’Kar’s situation.”

“Is that such a terrible thing?” I asked. “The ambassadors are in grave danger. Should our governments not be involved?”

“Can you guarantee that your government will respond appropriately?” she asked. “Can you guarantee they would target this Homeguard, and not Earth as a whole? If you found Delenn dead, would you stay your hand long enough to regain your perspective?” She arranged herself to sit straight and proud even on the soft sofa. “I could not,” she said with no inflection.

I cannot say I understand Na’Toth, or the motives that drive her actions. Vir is far more open. He said, “Delenn wouldn’t want us to inform our governments if it would lead to another war with Earth.” 

It was true. Delenn is an important member of our caste, and the warriors would take her abduction as a grave affront to the Minbari. Even I could not say what I would do if I was to see her dead. 

The silence settled about us. Vir fidgeted while Na’Toth remained poised. I tried to find the tranquil center of myself, but every time I got close to it I remembered Delenn and calm would elude me.

“I have never told her how much I admire her,” I said very suddenly, surprising even myself. “She is everything a Minbari should be.”

Vir chuckled. “I wouldn’t call Londo everything a Centauri should be, but he was the first person who ever treated me like I was worth something. Like I could be something more than a failure. He’s a genuinely good person, even when he tries not to be.”

“Ambassador G’Kar is deeply flawed,” Na’Toth said, her tone implying how deep she believed those flaws went, “but for all that, he is clever, and he is a ferocious patriot. Yes, I admire him. Not that I would ever tell him as much. I could not stand the preening.”

I asked, “Even if we discover where they have been taken, how would we rescue them?”

“Most rescue plans go: get there, sneak in, get them out without anyone noticing,” Vir said. “Particularly rescue plans that don’t also have a lot of guns on the rescuer’s side.”

“And how do we do any of those three things?” I asked. “I can pilot a ship, but I doubt an Earth extremist group would invite a Minbari flyer to rendezvous with them. We would require a human ship to sneak in, which I do not believe we have.”

“And sneaking in is complicated when none of us is human,” Na’Toth said. She seemed to consider this problem carefully, eyeing each of us in turn. “If one of us were human, that person could pretend the others were prisoners, brought to force cooperation out of the ambassadors.”

“Perhaps,” I said, warming to the plan, “there is some sort of chemical we could introduce to the air supply: an anesthetic or toxin that would only affect humans. If we could incapacitate them all, we could easily save the ambassadors and escape. But we still have no information as to their whereabouts, no ship, and no human to get us aboard.”

The comm panel chimed. We looked at one another in surprise, and then Vir hurried over to the desk, straightened himself as much as he could, and opened the channel. “Yes?” he said. “Oh! Commander! I’m afraid Londo isn’t available right now. It was a big night last night, and he’s very indisposed. You could try back in—”

“Vir,” I heard Commander Sinclair say, “I know Londo’s been kidnapped. I’ve known for hours.”

“What?” Vir asked. “I don’t know what you’re talking about! If you’ve told your government about this, I’ll lodge a formal complaint because that’s just untrue. And probably inciting panic as we speak!”

“Are Lennier and Na’Toth there?”

Vir wilted in the face of Commander Sinclair’s calm certainty. “No?” he managed.

“Put them on. I need to speak to all of you.”

I joined him, as did Na’Toth. Sinclair looked drawn, older than usual. I had hoped he would be buoyed with confidence of discovery, already on his way to a solution. 

“I want you to know,” he said, “that I’ve been in close contact with EarthGov since I found out what happened, and security has scoured the station for any sign of either the ambassadors or Homeguard. We’ve found neither, but one of the human diplomats was involved with the riots and the kidnapping.” He scowled. “After some convincing, he told us that the ambassadors have been taken from the station, but he is adamant he doesn’t know where they’ve gone.”

“Perhaps you should look further into this Homeguard, as they seem so interested in assassinating our ambassadors,” Na’Toth said. “A fact which you neglected to tell us when it could have proved useful.”

He looked angry, but I could not find it in my heart to sympathize. He had kept information from us, and Delenn was in danger because of it. “After the incident in question we upgraded all our security measures accordingly,” Sinclair said. “Those measures are again being reviewed, but I’ve already determined that our security forces acted appropriately given the information they had.” 

“Then how did you fail?” Vir asked. “I don’t want to seem confrontational, but our ambassadors could die because you didn’t tell us what was happening, and because your security measures failed. We deserve better than a review of procedure! Aren’t you going to do anything?”

“All due respect, Mister Cotto, but that is none of your business.”

“You made it our business when you and your government allowed Ambassador G’Kar to be abducted!” Na’Toth roared. I startled, but she had regained control over herself by the time I looked in her direction. 

“Just find out where they’ve been taken,” Vir said. “Maybe you don’t think we deserve to know how this happened, but you can’t deny us that.”

“I don’t know where they are,” the commander said. “And even if I did know, I received orders to take no action in this matter. That includes sharing information that could endanger Earth citizens.”

“Earth citizens!” Vir’s voice climbed to a thready pitch. “What about our citizens? Aren’t you sending a rescue party?” He bit his lip, and I could see him shaking. When he spoke again, his voice had lost its power and sounded very small. “Aren’t you going to do anything?”

“I have my orders, Mister Cotto,” Sinclair said.

“That is not acceptable!” Na’Toth’s skin flushed a darker orange, and her pupils narrowed. 

“I have my orders,” Sinclair repeated. “I suggest you go to the casino, have a drink and try to relax.”

“Just because your government demands you act as a coward, mine does not!” Na’Toth said. She leaned toward the monitor. “I will find Ambassador G’Kar, Commander. With or without you.”

Sinclair said nothing, just looked at us as though we were worth nothing. I believed he was preparing himself to disengage from the entire situation. He was not only dismissing us, but also Delenn. Na’Toth held herself rigid, towering over us in her rage. Tears tracked down Vir’s cheeks, though he did not acknowledge them. Sinclair continued, implacable in the face of their emotions, “Contacting you was merely a courtesy.”

I did not notice one of my hands fisting so tightly my fingernails cut into my palm. My fury transcended physical pain. I recalled Na’Toth’s question to me about what I would do if I saw Delenn dead. I had dismissed the notion that I would call for war. I thought I knew the humans here, and their intrinsic nobility. Never had I considered my reaction if one of them was the instrument by which she would be left to die. 

I cannot describe the surge of loathing that rose within me. It is a thing buried in every Minbari, I am sure, but it had never made itself known until I looked into Commander Sinclair’s face and wanted his world to burn as mine was. 

I could scarcely recognize my voice when I spoke. “If the relationships you have formed with De—with our ambassadors are not enough to move your hand in such a situation, in spite of the politics, then you and your species do not deserve the position of power they have risen to in the galaxy. I will be contacting the Minbari government within the hour regarding this incident. They will save Delenn, and then they will decide what to do about their relationship with your planet.”

“I’ll do the same,” Vir said, toneless in his mourning. 

“The Narn regime will stand with the Minbari and the Centauri in this action,” Na’Toth said. 

We were a united front, Mister Garibaldi. We were not powerful each alone, with little personal or political clout behind us, but in that moment we could have moved worlds.

Sinclair did not react at all. “You do whatever you have to, but I suggest you go to the casino and relax, before you make any rash decisions.”

Na’Toth went very still at my side. Her head cocked to the side slowly, and then she said, “I see.”

Sinclair looked at her hard. I could not understand what was happening, but where we had been one I could feel us becoming three and inconsequential again. My desire for vengeance was still singing in my ears, clouding my judgment. Na’Toth said, “Thank you for the courtesy, Commander,” and swiped the channel closed.

I turned on her in my disbelief. “How could you thank a man like that? Why did you—”

“Lennier, your hand!” Vir said, but I paid him little attention.

“Are Minbari always so poor at understanding subterfuge, or is that particular to your background?” Na’Toth asked and leaned toward me. Her smile spoke of knowledge I did not have, and a natural tendency toward enjoying the upper hand. My temper, which I had less and less control over the worse the situation grew, held by a thread. 

“You will step back,” I said.

Her smile vanished and her expression grew harsh. “Do not threaten me, Minbari.”

“Lennier!” Vir grasped my wrist.

Without thought I turned. My actions were well trained and in my rage they were entirely instinctive. I am ashamed to say I lashed out and struck Vir in the mouth with enough force to send him to the floor. He let out a high, pained noise, and it cut through my madness in an instant.

I was left shaken by the emptiness that followed such strong emotions, and by the horror of what those emotions had driven me to do. I stared at him, the most defenseless of us, with blood seeping between the fingers he held to his face. Even Na’Toth had stepped back, shocked. I fell to my knees. 

“Vir, I must apologize,” I said, my words tripping over themselves in their haste. “Such a blow was never meant for you. If I may—”

I reached to draw his hands from his face, but he slapped my hand away. I could see then that his lip was split on both sides where it had been driven against the points of his sharpest teeth. “What is wrong with the two of you?” he shouted, heedless of the blood running down his chin and speckling the floor as he gesticulated. “We aren’t going to rescue anyone if you tear us apart before we can even begin!”

“What I did was unforgiveable,” I said, and held his chin to keep his blood from dripping on his clothing. He fell still under my hand and simply gazed at me. I deserved the suspicion I saw in his eyes. “I have shamed myself, my clan and my caste.” I felt the need to bow to him, to beg his forgiveness, but it would be a comfort to me, not to him. I did not deserve such consideration, for I had harmed an innocent in my anger. I could not release his chin without spilling our blood, mixed in my palm, upon him, and so I bowed my head and said, “Vir, you are bleeding.”

“So are you.”

Na’Toth joined us, bearing a colorful towel and pressing it under my hand. She curled it about my palm and pressed another to Vir’s lip. I dropped my towel to attend to him, my debt demanding it.

“Use the undamaged hand, if you must,” she said, and plucked my injured hand away to rewrap it in the towel. 

“I am not worthy of this attention,” I said.

“No,” she said, “you are not. But you’ll get it anyway, because at least one of us must be practical.” Then to my great surprise she said, “And more than one of us must apologize.” She seemed barely able to get the words out, and her expression was one of damaged pride. “I find provocation is the most efficient way to get at the truth, but I should not have allowed myself to indulge when our time is so precious.” 

We tended one another in silence for a time. Na’Toth regained her poise and eventually continued, “As I was about to say before your sudden display of insanity, I am not one to allow Ambassador G’Kar to die when I can do something about it, and it struck me that Commander Sinclair is not either.”

“But he refuses to act,” I said. I felt my frustration rise once more, only to be quashed under my guilt. I could not allow my passions to rule me. “You heard what he said, how readily he dismissed us and our people.”

“Rather uncharacteristic, don’t you think?” she asked. “Isn’t it odd how insistent he was that we go to the casino and relax? Not exactly the most relaxing environment, and an even stranger suggestion following a threat of a three-sided war upon his people.”

“I just thought he was being patronizing,” Vir said around the towel. It opened one of the cuts on his lip and he winced. I held the back of his neck to leverage more pressure upon the wound.

“No, it was more than that.”

“You believe he was attempting subterfuge?” I asked.

“That would make sense,” Vir said. “It’s not like him to just let people die when he could save them, and he’s found ways around orders before. This could be some sort of covert meeting or information drop.”

I felt foolish for not seeing through a façade that, in hindsight, seemed obvious. I do not like to think myself capable of such a failure of observation, even overwhelmed by emotion. That I could be reduced to such foolishness so quickly … this is something in me I will have to confront if I don’t wish it to consume me.

I could not say all that, of course. Burdening them with my own problems would be unfair. Instead I said, “We must at least see what he can offer us.”

Vir said, “And our plan can still work. We just need a ship, a human, and some sort of gas to knock humans unconscious.” 

I said, “We should avail ourselves of Doctor Franklin’s help for that.” 

“And the ship?”

“Lieutenant Commander Ivanova is in charge of the docks,” Vir said. “If Commander Sinclair is willing to help us covertly, maybe she is as well.” 

Na’Toth looked from one of us to the other. “I suggest we divide our efforts once more,” she said. “Lennier, as the airborne poison was your idea, you collaborate with Doctor Franklin. Vir, Lieutenant Commander Ivanova is on friendly terms with Ambassador Mollari. Or at least the sorts of terms that involve drinking heavily together upon occasion. I believe she would be most willing to help you.”

“And what will you do?” I asked.

“I will go to the casino and relax,” she said.

She left us, and I did not know what to do when Vir and I were alone. I was tempted to leave immediately, but I refused to give in to cowardice as well as anger. He took possession of the towel and dabbed at his lip. “I’m going to have to get new towels,” he said. “I doubt Londo would appreciate blood all over them, even if I’m the only one who tends to use them.”

“I will pay for the towels,” I said. At last I had the chance to bow, and did so with all the respect I could muster with a towel wrapped around my hand. “And for whatever cleaning services are necessitated by my careless actions. And if ever you need anything else, do not hesitate to call upon me.”

Vir ducked his head to catch my eye. “You know I forgive you, right?” he said. “It doesn’t even hurt that badly.”

“I do not deserve easy forgiveness.”

He shrugged and pushed himself to his feet. “You aren’t the first person I know who’s made a mistake, and you aren’t going to be the last. I make mistakes all the time. Besides, if we only forgave people who ‘deserved’ it—and I have no idea what that means or how to judge it—we’d be very lonely.”

“You are a good man,” I said. “Better than I.”

“Now you’re just being silly,” he said, and waved me toward the door. “You should get to MedLab as soon as you can. Who knows how long it’ll take Doctor Franklin to make that sort of chemical, or if he even can?” I followed his instructions. “And get him to look at your hand!” he called after me.

I have learned many things over these past days about myself and others. My own capacity for anger and damage was both unexpected and worrying, but it was also a necessary lesson to learn about myself. Of equal importance was the realization that in the pursuit of my duties I have underestimated those around me, Vir Cotto most of all.


	10. LCMDR Susan Ivanova

—Extract from Security Chief Michael Garibaldi’s interview with LCMDR Susan Ivanova—

Before the order to ‘distance ourselves from the situation’ came in, I had been working on pinpointing the most likely location the ambassadors could have been taken. Homeguard wouldn’t want to keep them too long and risk three alien governments mounting a rescue, but they would need to get them an adequate distance from the station in case we were able to mount our own rescue. I estimated they would be one jump away; two at most.

With a bit of help from a friend in EarthForce intelligence, I found that several shell companies existing as suspected Homeguard fronts had purchased three decommissioned Hyperion-class cruisers that could serve as bases of operations off Earth. One was being repaired at the Neue Hanse orbital shipyard. The specifications indicated that it had been rebuilt and ostensibly ‘disarmed’ after being retired from military service. Why anyone would buy a heavy cruiser and disarm it was not clarified.

The other two were more difficult to track down, but after a few hours I received word that one was doing business with the Proxima colony and the other was last detected coming out of the jump gate in Quadrant 15.

As you would say, Garibaldi, jackpot. I reviewed the information. The ship was called the _Cape Horn_ , and had entered Quadrant 15 five days before. It had not left, and there isn’t enough in Quadrant 15 to keep anyone’s attention for more than two days.

It was the best lead we had: loitering in neutral space in a quadrant where nothing happened and no one had any particular claim seemed almost too convenient, but no one has ever accused Homeguard of an overabundance of brains. Maybe they thought that the companies they used to buy the ships were not traceable. I just accepted such carelessness as a mitzvah, downloaded the information, stored it in a data crystal, and decided to walk it to Sinclair’s office myself.

I found him haggard and irritable. “How bad?” I asked.

“Bad,” he said. “Seems like this triggered a hundred debates about the legitimacy of Homeguard, and where the line between sympathy and collusion can be drawn. Everyone back home is busy covering their asses, and the only thing they can agree on is that we can’t do anything until they’ve worked it out for themselves.”

“Surely EarthGov wouldn’t choose to shelter Homeguard,” I said. “They aren’t a political party or any sort of legitimate organization. They are terrorists and criminals by our laws and everyone else’s.”

“The senators aren’t thinking of any picture that large, just their own careers.” He scrubbed his hand across his face. “I had to tell Vir, Lennier, and Na’Toth that we wouldn’t be helping them. God, Susan, you should have seen them. Na’Toth wanted to crawl through the screen and tear me apart, and I think I made Vir cry. They all threatened to advise their people to cut ties with us over this, and I’ll be damned if I can disagree with them.” He looked me in the eye. “Ever had a day when you’re certain the universe has cast you as the villain?”

“Tuesdays,” I said. It got a chuckle out of him, at least. I almost regretted having to bring things back to business. “I take it you intend to offer them unofficial help.”

“I’ve already made them the offer, and I think Na’Toth figured it out. I’ve hired an intermediary and guaranteed that the information passed on will never be spoken aloud by me or any of my command staff.”

“Good,” I said, and then placed the data crystal on his desk. “Then knowing that there’s a Homeguard C&C ship in Quadrant 15 should be useful.”

“You’re a gem.”

“I’m God. Please get it right.”

My link beeped and he waved me on. “Leave the crystal here,” he told me. “I’ll see it gets to them.”

I nodded as I answered my link.

Lieutenant Corwin, nominally in charge of C&C in my absence, said, “Lieutenant Commander, Vir Cotto is here. He says,” and his voice began to sound both embarrassed and perplexed, “he says he wants to buy you a drink. Apparently he’s standing in for Ambassador Mollari.”

“Oh, does he?” I asked. “Tell Mister Cotto I’ll meet him at the Eclipse Café.”

“That’s a bit public,” Sinclair said.

“Hiding in plain sight,” I corrected. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, Commander, I have to go drink one for the team.”

The Zocalo was crowded with people by the time I got there. Several of the shops were still shut and showing damage. The people there kept to close groups and looked on anyone else with suspicion, even an EarthForce officer. It took me some time to dodge the people and remaining damage, but eventually I made it to the Eclipse and found Vir at a table with a glass and a split lip.

“Getting into fights?” I asked.

Apparently he hadn’t seen me, because he jumped so far he nearly upended the table. I caught his drink before it could fall, gave it a sniff and wrinkled my nose. “Is this a Shirley Temple?”

“I love them!” he said. “I thought human drinks were terrible, but this is really good.”

I sat down at the table and saw the waitress drift closer. I resigned myself to the fact that drinks with Vir were going to be different than drinks with Londo. At least Vir was less likely to stick me with the tab. “I’ll have what he’s having,” I told her.

Once we settled down into our Shirley Temples I asked again, “So what did happen to your lip?”

“It’s nothing,” he said. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Vir,” I said.

“Really, it’s nothing. It hasn’t bled for almost fifteen minutes. It doesn’t even hurt much, and the ice in my drink really helps—we need to borrow a ship.”

I nearly choked on my Shirley Temple. “I’m sorry, what was that non sequitur?”

Vir stammered, “I meant hypotethically. And I meant ‘I’. I need to hypothetically borrow a hypothetical ship. That would have to be hypotethically of human make. What would you say if I hypothetically asked you for that?”

“Hypothetically?”

“Exactly.”

I would like to state now that I do not get paid enough for ham-handed stealth in the middle of the Zocalo. Luckily for Vir, I’d been prepared to suggest he find an Earth ship in case it hadn’t occurred to him. How they intended to get aboard a Homeguard ship once they had an Earth vessel was down to them. “Hypothetically I would tell you that all EarthForce ships must be piloted by EarthForce personnel. And I would hypothetically tell you that non-military transports all belong to private citizens, and are therefore not mine to lend.”

“Oh,” he said.

“But what I would likely not hypothetically tell you is that we recently discovered a merchant was moving weapons through the station, and that we’ve impounded his ship. Nor would I hypothetically tell you that with a few modifications to its computer systems it might appear to mimic the patterns and codes that have been established for an anti-alien terrorist organization from Earth.”

By the time I was done speaking, he was nearly done with his drink, and his straw slurped the last of it in the ensuing silence. “That would be hypothetically of a lot of interest to us—me. It’s good you didn’t tell me that.”

“Then it is also good I didn’t tell you that it’s in Docking Bay 12, and that the guard will be gone this afternoon. And that at precisely 1400 hours, the docking bay doors will suffer an accident and open.”

“That’s good. That’s very good.”

“Isn’t it?” I stood up. “I just remembered I was on duty. If you’ll excuse me, Mister Cotto.”

“Thank you for the drink,” he said.

I nodded and turned away. Out of the corner of my eye I caught a glimpse of him pulling the rest of my Shirley Temple to his side of the table.


	11. Talia Winters

—Extract from Security Chief Michael Garibaldi’s interview with Talia Winters—

There isn’t much I can tell you. I was involved as a third party, and that only because Commander Sinclair requested my services. If I’d known what I was in for, I probably would have charged more. 

When I got to the commander’s office, I was surprised to see that he had sensitive information displayed on the wall monitors. Not only that, but he was thinking very loudly about it. I couldn’t have avoided hearing him if I tried.

“Commander,” I said, “if you don’t want me to scan you, you might not want to think so obviously.”

“You know I don’t like it when people scan me,” he said, but he was thinking the opposite. 

I let myself fall into his mind just a little. I saw a ship hanging in space, and the ambassadors being abducted by a group of men wearing black-light camouflage. I saw the crystal on the edge of the desk waiting for me. I reached out and took it. The commander smiled. “As I said before, I need to hire you, Miss Winters. The aides to Ambassadors Delenn, G’Kar, and Mollari were very upset after a recent talk I had with them, and I think it would be better for everyone if you were to smooth things over. Convey to them that as an EarthForce officer I have to follow my orders to the letter.” He thought of the crystal in my hand. He thought of delivering it to them. “You’ll be compensated at the standard rate. Do you understand, Miss Winters?”

How could I not? He was mentally shouting at me. “Of course, Commander,” I said.

“Excellent. Please meet them in the casino right away.” 

I didn’t hurry. Even though the information I possessed was important, I knew better than to draw attention by running. So I walked. I got on a lift and I took it to the casino. It was early enough in the day it wasn’t that busy. I scanned the crowd and spotted Na’Toth sitting alone in a corner booth. A man walked by and asked her something and she sent him a glance so withering I didn’t need to scan her to know what she was thinking. He slunk away and I took his place.

“Maybe I’ll have better luck,” I said. “May I sit?”

“I am waiting for someone,” she said.

“I believe you’re waiting for someone hired to smooth things over between you and the station,” I said. “Unless the commander misinformed me.”

I always expect her teeth to be sharp when she smiles, and I’m always surprised when they aren’t. “The commander is most generous,” she said. “Please, sit. I would offer you a drink of kriul, but I believe it is lethal to your species. Poisoning is a bit too Centauri for my tastes.”

“Well, I did think Mister Cotto would be here as well,” I said.

“Mister Cotto is otherwise engaged,” Na’Toth said. “You’ll be dealing with me, unless you have some objection.” 

I could feel the desire in her; the vague hope she could win me over. Na’Toth’s thoughts are cool, slower and more calculated than human thoughts. Each was examined and discarded or saved for later, one at a time. At that moment she was thinking about my abilities, about the lack of Narn telepaths, about how even a little DNA would improve their chances of genetically engineering the ability into their gene pool.

I smiled at her, outwardly as unaffected as she was. I ordered a Jovian Sunspot and we sipped our drinks in silence. 

Na’Toth finished her glass and said, “Do you know, I was surprised when I found out that they carried Narn drinks here. And that they are well made.”

“Why were you surprised?” I asked.

“From the outside this station looks so human. And inside, everyone who is to protect or interact with us is EarthForce. No joint military operations; no shared control. I found the entire arrangement dangerously lopsided. Isn’t it interesting how I tend to be right at the worst moments? My particular talent, one could say.” She lifted the glass and looked into it, her red eyes reflecting in its surface. “Narn drinks. Very nice. Not as nice as those same EarthForce personnel telling us when we’ve been targeted for assassination, of course, but nice.”

“I’m sure the commander had his reasons.”

“Everyone has reasons, Miss Winters. I have reasons. You have reasons. But they are not always good reasons, are they?” she asked.

Na’Toth looked at me like she could see through me, like I was an open book to her. All these years in the Psi Corps, and no one has ever looked at me quite like that. Other telepaths look at you like you’re a book they’ve been eyeing on the shelf. They want to read you, and maybe they will, but they aren’t in a hurry about it. Na’Toth looked at me as though she saw my cover, and knew the entire plot and every character inside. It was disquieting.

I focused on my drink. It was orange, the same color as her skin. I set the data crystal on the table. “A peace offering,” I said.

“And we thank you for it. Is this everything we need?”

I told her in quick, quiet terms everything the commander had projected for me. I’d been hired to relay the message and I made certain she heard every word. When I was done she leaned back and studied me again.

“I think that concludes our business,” I said, “don’t you?”

“Not quite,” she said.

I waited. I wanted to pry into her thoughts, but she wasn’t projecting and the rules are there for a reason. “What else can I do for you?” I asked, still polite, still placid. It pays to seem above it all when you’re in my position.

“You are considered attractive by human standards,” she said.

Get your mind out of the gutter, Mister Garibaldi, or stop projecting. 

“I suppose,” I said.

“How do you achieve this?”

I’ve had stranger questions than that asked of me while employed. “Are you interested in attracting someone?” I asked.

She gave me the same withering look she had given her earlier admirer. “You humans,” she sneered, “so fixated on a single topic. This is strictly business, Miss Winters. Please answer the question.”

“I take care of my appearance,” I said.

“Details.”

“Makeup, hair, the appropriate clothing. It would help me narrow down topics if I knew where this was going.”

“Could you achieve a similar effect with another? If you could use these implements of yours?”

“Yes, probably.”

“Good,” she said. She stood up, paid our tab and said, “Then fetch them and come with me. I believe it is nearly time, and I will require your skills.”

It was becoming harder and harder not to read her, but sometimes not knowing is more interesting. I detected no hostile intent, and she seemed entirely honest about what she needed, if constitutionally incapable of asking politely. She followed me to my quarters, where I collected my makeup and, at her urging, a few hair products.

“Your hair is very flat. Very smooth. I take it this is desirable amongst humans,” she said as she inspected a bottle of mousse. 

“It can be.”

“Good. And your skin is quite an even color. Is this also achieved by subterfuge?”

“I tend to call it foundation.” I showed her the bottle.

“A desirable color for a human?”

“It’s to even my tone, not paint my face, Na’Toth.”

“And the rest of these colors?”

I closed my eyes to show her my eyeshadow, then indicated the rouge on my cheeks and the lipstick. She leaned in close. “Interesting,” she said. “I did not know humans were so careful to erect a façade to shield their true selves. I approve. Do you have everything you will need?”

“I think so. You are aware I tend to be contracted as a telepath, not a stylist, right?”

“I am a diplomatic attaché. That does not mean I could not be a soldier or an assassin, if asked.” She strode out of my quarters as though she, not I, owned them. “Come, Miss Winters. Time is not on our side.”

When she couldn’t see me, I rolled my eyes. “You could have just said yes,” I said to myself, and then followed her out.

She led me to the ambassadorial wing, and I grew even more intrigued. I had a general idea that she and the other aides intended to rescue their ambassadors, and that they would be travelling to the ship I had been instructed to tell them about. I also knew they would have an easier time getting aboard a ship full of humans with a human. I wondered who they had managed to convince to come with them. I thought of Ivanova, and imagined the look on her face when Na’Toth brought me in to do her makeup and her hair. I hoped it was Ivanova. It would make the entire strange incident worth the headache. 

Na’Toth led me to a door which opened when she signaled. Instead of the deep red of the Narn quarters, it was colorful and smelled like no one so much as … “Are these Ambassador Mollari’s quarters?” I asked.

“Your perception does you credit,” Na’Toth said. I followed her inside and stopped when I saw Vir Cotto and Lennier seated together on a couch, talking quietly, their heads leaned toward one another. 

Vir saw Na’Toth and jumped to his feet. “We have a ship!” Then he saw me and stammered, “Or we would. If we needed a ship. Which we don’t.”

“Relax, Centauri,” Na’Toth said. “She has been hired to assist us in our mission.”

“Hired?” Lennier asked. He didn’t sound like he approved.

“By Commander Sinclair,” Na’Toth said. “As I said, he is not one to sit idly by.”

“Who am I supposed to make over?” I asked.

“Make over?” Na’Toth asked.

I held up my bag of makeup and hair products. “I thought there would be another human here.”

“You are mistaken,” she said. “You transform yourself, creating a pleasing façade to other humans. You will do the same to Mister Cotto.”

“What?” Vir asked before I could.

Lennier positioned himself slightly between Na’Toth and Vir, and the surge of protectiveness from him was powerful enough it worked past my defenses. “Is that necessary?” he asked.

“We have a location; we have a vessel; all that is required now is a human to grant us access to this ship and identification enough to get us aboard.” She looked at me. “Miss Winters can gain the identification and passcodes we require, but as for the human, it can only be you, Vir.”

Lennier slumped. “She’s right,” he said. “I cannot pass for human, nor could Na’Toth. You are the only species that is close enough to fool even a gross examination.”

Na’Toth smiled and turned to me. “Miss Winters, begin whenever you are prepared.”

I stared at Vir Cotto, with his rumpled crest of hair, snowy skin, expansive eyebrows, and the sharp teeth he revealed when he smiled at me nervously. I sighed. Definitely not Ivanova.

“I’m going to need wax,” I said. 

Vir’s smile faltered. Na’Toth’s grew. “Miss Winters,” she said, “I believe I am beginning to like you.”


	12. Ambassador G’Kar

— Extract from Security Chief Michael Garibaldi’s interview with Ambassador G’Kar —

Belief, Mister Garibaldi, is a very important thing. Even when we felt the first vibration of a docking procedure, we believed we could still escape. That we had lain in wait not because there was nothing else we could do, but to serve some useful purpose. To gain an advantage over our enemies. Of course we believed we could defeat them. What was the alternative? Ask the fanatics not to kill us and hope for the best?

We waited in the cargo bay as the grinding sound of the airlocks faded. Then we waited for the sound of footsteps. If we were escorted through the ship, there was still a possibility we could overpower our captors. I moved closer to the door, where I could more effectively bottleneck them. After a moment, Delenn and Mollari joined me. We bracketed the door and prepared for an unpleasant fight.

It never happened. “Why is no one coming?” Mollari asked after several tense moments. “They cannot have forgotten us.”

Delenn asked, “Can you hear that?”

I strained at the door, but could hear nothing. “No,” I said.

“Not there,” she said. “A hissing sound.”

It was Mollari who saw it first: the frost forming on the vents over the cargo bay door. Vents that were, unless human ships are very different than Narn ships, meant to slowly remove the atmosphere in the bay and allow for a smooth transition of delicate ship parts into space. Delenn was across the room before we could stop her, so we followed instead. As we did, I felt the slight movement of air and the chill growing, and then I too could hear the sound.

Do you know, it’s funny. Given my experiences, I assumed I would die on my feet. Hopefully doing something worth doing, but definitely in combat. So you can understand my astonishment that the plan to kill us seemed to be nothing more than venting the atmosphere and allowing the temperature to equalize past a survivable limit.

“Great Maker,” Mollari whispered. In spite of not sharing his heathen belief structure, I had to agree with the sentiment.

“It makes no sense,” Delenn said. “Why would they take us so far when we could have been thrown out the airlocks on _Babylon 5_ to achieve the same effect?”

“Humans make no sense,” I said. “You can’t expect their fanatics to be any better.”

Mollari cast about. Then he fumbled with his shirt and tried to put on the ring again. There was still no result. “Damn Kosh to hell,” he said. “When is this thing going to be needed if not right before we are killed?”

Delenn had no answer this time. Who knows? Maybe it was enough to shake her faith in Kosh’s party favors. “We can use these crates to block the vents,” she said. “That should stop the air getting out.”

“And when they realize what we’ve done and just space us, will it provide some small comfort that the crates go first?” I demanded, my needling more reflex than intent at that point.

“If you want to stand around waiting to die, G’Kar, enjoy yourself.” Mollari struggled to move one of the smaller crates.

Against my better judgment I was reminded of my belief that I would die doing something. I’m not sure trying to wrestle crates up to cover a few vents is ‘worth doing’, but it was indeed better than standing around. “Oh, for the love of G’Quan,” I muttered, then picked the crate up and hauled it across the room. I couldn’t reach the vent, so I set the crate down to make a stack.

We worked as quickly as we could, I on crates alone, and Mollari and Delenn working together to move others. There were four vents working against us, and the automated system made their progress steady and irritatingly inevitable. The air was growing thin and cold by the time we managed to cover the first vent.

Mollari’s flimsy Centauri physiology was the first to show signs of the air loss. He began coughing, his breath wheezing, his skin turning even whiter. To be fair, that last part could have been the cold, which I was feeling as well. I tried to estimate how much time I had before my body fell into hibernation, but my thoughts had grown fuzzy around the edges.

Delenn, alone among us, seemed unaffected. I had heard of Minbari hardiness before, but to see her continue to work even as I could no longer lift a crate by myself and Mollari scrabbled uselessly at them in between coughing fits, was quite something. She alternated between each of us, and then said, “Conserve your strength. I will take it from here.”

I couldn’t even bring myself to protest. My higher brain functions were being swamped by the need for warmth and air. That must be how I ended up seated in a corner, huddled against Mollari. In my defense, he was not only pleasantly exothermic but could scarcely talk for all the coughing. It might well be the most agreeable state I’ve ever seen him in.

“I wonder,” I gasped around my chattering teeth, “if I could keep you like this. They might give me a medal if you never spoke again.”

He flapped one hand and a thumb at me.

“What was that supposed to mean?”

He dragged in a particularly painful sounding breath and coughed out, “All. Six.”

Centauri idiom eludes me even on my better days. “What?”

Mollari shot me a look full of contempt. “Even you. Are not. So dense.”

Then comprehension dawned. “Honestly, Mollari. We’re probably going to die. Can’t you give our last insults a better effort than crude gestures?”

“You would. Prefer. A demonstration?”

“Not if this was the entropy death of the universe, and you were the last warm body in existence.”

He tried to laugh, but his lungs made another bid for freedom and he collapsed against me. He started to flail weakly as he expelled more air than he was taking in. I looked up and saw Delenn across the room, too busy trying to save us to notice us. Now, this is the part you will never tell anyone. Not Sinclair, not Ivanova, no one.

I hauled him closer, forcing his back to straighten. “Breathe in, you idiot,” I hissed in his ear. “Pouchlings do it; it’s not difficult! Calm yourself and breathe, you fungal growth on otherwise promising opportunities!” I drew breath to berate him further, inhaled his hair and started coughing myself.

“Now look what you made me do,” I said, and regretted it. Now the shortness of breath was mutual, and I was struggling against my own hitching lungs. Mollari had subsided against me with his lips turning slightly blue and his breathing too shallow to be effective. At last my coughing stopped and I fell back against the wall.

Across the room, Delenn collapsed as gracefully as anyone could, her own reserves of strength giving out even as two vents remained operational. She dragged herself toward another crate. She, at least, would appear courageous in death.

“We are going to look ridiculous … when they find our bodies,” I muttered into that over-perfumed Centauri coif. “If it’s … our people … they’ll prop us up as … symbols of interstellar peace … or some such … obnoxious twaddle.”

And then the vents ceased their hissing and the crates pressed against the two we’d managed to block fell to the floor. The door we had been prying at so uselessly for hours slid open, and armed humans wearing the same black clothing as before poured in and pointed PPGs at us.

More importantly, they brought with them a rush of air. I gasped, Mollari started coughing again, and Delenn caught my eye, aware and ready. Good for her.

With the return of oxygen, my head was pounding and I felt nauseous. I tried to lift my hand, but my muscles had decided a break was in order after everything I’d put them through.

But when all else fails, we still have our voices, do we not? And they can be the most potent of weapons. Unfortunately, at that moment my particular weapon was somewhat dulled by near asphyxia and hibernation, so I settled on saying, “Oh, good. We’re saved.”

And then, as seemed to be the only mode of communication relevant to our captors, I got pistol whipped for my troubles.


	13. Ambassador Delenn

—Extract from Security Chief Michael Garibaldi’s interview with Ambassador Delenn—

Asphyxia is not the kindest way to incapacitate your opponent. It speaks to some notion that we were not worth wasting an anesthetic on, or that it was preferable to terrorize us into submission. G’Kar and Londo were both weakened when they were pulled toward the door, and I was not much better. I let two humans drag me to my feet, and I stumbled to keep my balance. They pushed us into a knot in their midst. Londo caught my elbow and G’Kar my other arm. 

We leaned together, forgetting for a time our differences in the face of such a clear threat to our lives. It was not a real peace between us; it would pass as soon as we were safe, but in that situation we could not afford division. 

There were no shock sticks now, only PPGs and eager looks. It is strange. I have worked with humans for several years now, and I have never felt so isolated amongst them as I did then. Every difference between us stood in sharp relief, and I drew Londo and G’Kar closer to me.

The airlock was claustrophobic when we passed through it, and the humans crowded too close for comfort. I felt the barrels of their guns press into me. I forced myself to hold my head high, to show no fear. If it was the intention that we be cowed and demeaned, I would not give them the satisfaction. G’Kar possesses a natural sense of command, and he stood proud. If he could have shaken their hands from him, he would have. Londo, who so often seems the least stately of us, pulled a strange, cold dignity about him, tattered but resolute. 

The ship they escorted us into was older. I could tell the second we were brought onboard. The transport had not been clean, but it was recent grime. The ship onto which we were led was dingy, cold, and its air was thin and stale. The life-support systems had not been well-maintained. Many of the wall panels had been torn open, and their wiring hung out, some of it spliced into wires in the ceiling or across the corridor. 

This was a ship and a people in desperation, Mister Garibaldi. Whatever I had expected of our kidnappers, it was not this. It is easy to view those who wish you harm as evil, but they were pitiful. Their expensive personal camouflage seemed mismatched to their ship, and it made them look even more like a people who had scavenged an operation, rather than built it with care and steady funding.

My suspicions made me view our captors in a new light. There were those amongst them who were confident in their power over us, yes. They had the look of new bullies: finally in control. But there were more who appeared afraid of us. We, without weapons, stripped of many layers, still had an innate power that they did not feel they shared. Was this why they hated us? I do not know, but it is something to think about. 

I also realized there were fewer of them than it seemed there should be for a ship as large as this one. We did not pass people in the corridors. When we were pushed onto the lift there was no one there to interrupt. It could have been orchestrated that way to keep us from knowing their true numbers, but combined with their desperation it seemed to me they were a skeleton crew, barely enough to keep this ship operational. 

I do not know which of those factors made me believe we could reason with them. It seemed to me if they were as desperate as we thought, they would welcome an alternative to imprisoning us. 

Of course I spoke to them. What did you think I would do? I am a diplomat, Mister Garibaldi. Difficult negotiations are not new to me. Even negotiations in which my life is in danger are not entirely unfamiliar.

I turned to the man nearest me, whose PPG was digging under my ribs. “Why are there so few of you here?” I asked.

It was difficult to tell under the veil that covered his face, but I think he was surprised by how calm I seemed. G’Kar and Londo both tightened their holds on me. They were probably afraid I would be shot. But I did not think so. They had brought us a great distance. I didn’t know why, but I did know they would want us alive until they could do whatever it was they had planned for us. 

The man said, “Shut up,” but he had spoken to me. It was possible I could get through.

“I simply want to understand you,” I said to him, “who you are, why you are doing this, and what you think it will accomplish. You have clearly put a great deal of effort into this plan, so whatever your goal is must mean a great deal to you. You have powerful friends, but they are not entirely reliable, are they? You feel alone in the universe. Is that why you do this? To draw people’s attention to your plight? To force them to acknowledge you?”

From the force with which he struck me, I believe I was correct in my assessment. G’Kar caught me before I could fall, and over the ringing in my ears I could hear Londo say, “Allow me to put this in terms you understand, you evolutionary error: touch her again, and my face will be the last thing you see.”

Then Londo was sent to the floor under another blow. Someone aimed a kick at his back, and I did not think before throwing myself over him, even as G’Kar threw himself over me. We were hit more times than I could count, and though G’Kar took the worst of it we could not altogether shield one another. 

I began to doubt my conclusion that they would not simply kill us in the hallway, clutched together on the floor. But then a voice said, “Stop,” and they did.

It took us a moment to assure ourselves that the immediate danger had passed. G’Kar eased his grip on me only when those around us stepped out of boot range. I let go of Londo, who had a cut across his cheekbone where the PPG had caught him. We looked at one another, and I saw him clutching his abdomen. With a certainty I did not entirely understand, I shook my head.

We helped one another up, each surveying one side of the human wall surrounding us. I saw my error: there were some, yes, who would be reasonable enough to talk to us, but they were matched by those too lost and angry to do such things. And unless we could separate one group from the other there was little hope of a peaceful solution.

The man who had stopped them was the same man who had confronted us in Green 2. He was a man without any features to set him apart from the average human. You might walk past him in a corridor and never know he was there. He did not look on us with compassion, but with calculation. He was not our savior; I knew that from the moment I laid eyes on him. But he was the man with the most sense of purpose. Whether the plan itself was his, I cannot say, but I can say that he of all of them was most invested in seeing it through.

He turned and began to walk, and we were pushed along behind him. The ship grew more habitable as we left the periphery, with only sporadic panels torn open and bypassed. But the air grew no less stale or cold. 

I had to try again to avert whatever they had planned. I called to the man who led us, “Why are we here?”

He said nothing. 

I tried again. “What do you want from us?”

And again he said nothing. 

“Please,” I said, “just tell us something.”

It was as though he was too far away to hear me. He did not turn his head or acknowledge us in any way. We reached a door, and it slid open to reveal a room. It is a difficult place to describe now, but at the time every detail was clear. The walls were draped in fabric and there was a thin sheet of plastic on the floor. On one wall was mounted what appeared to be a camera connected to a power cable thick and well-insulated enough I believed it fed off the engine itself. This was the sort of camera that was meant to broadcast not just to one location, but propagate the signal all the way to Earth.

I felt the hands on my both arms tighten. G’Kar, Londo and I exchanged glances, seeing and confirming the same understanding of our situation. We could have quailed then, Mister Garibaldi. I do not think anyone could have blamed us. But each of us in our own way must have met and known death before. It was perhaps not an old friend, but it was an acquaintance, and we did not lose our dignity when confronted by it again. We turned and marched into that room with our heads held high. 

Have you guessed what they were going to do to us? People are kidnapped for many reasons, as you well know. I had assumed that they wished to ransom us to our governments. And while the camera could be used for that purpose, and the drapes on the walls could mask our true location for the same reason, it was the plastic on the floor that convinced me I had been wrong.

They did not intend to ransom us for money or for political leverage. They planned to kill us and broadcast the execution.


	14. Ambassador Londo Mollari

—Extract from Security Chief Michael Garibaldi’s interview with Ambassador Londo Mollari—

What is there to say? We all knew going into that room what would happen to us unless we could prevent it. Our hands were tied with plastic behind our backs and we were pushed in. I could not keep my footing, and I fell. By the time I looked up, the humans were gone and we were alone.

I had been trying for the last hour to do something with that damned ring. Anything. I had kept hold of it even when I was unconscious, and the feel of it biting into my skin was becoming familiar. But no matter how I manipulated it, nothing happened. Lying there and looking at that floor, I tried again. I don’t even know why. It is not as though I trust Kosh, or that I think he can see the future. It was simply that it made no sense that he would give me something that could not do a thing.

It didn’t do anything that time either.

Delenn was the only one of us who had remained on her feet, but she could do little enough to help us as we struggled to stand. When at last we made our way to the center of the room, it hit me that we were alone. Not just on that ship, you understand, but in the galaxy. No one would reach us in time to save us, if help was coming at all.

I said, “They are going to kill us.”

“Unless one of us has a brilliant plan, I would imagine they will,” G’Kar said. He was so calm, so ready to die. The Narns and their unending love for martyrdom, yes? It made me all the more determined not to die, just to see the disappointed look on his face.

“Londo?” Delenn asked me. She sounded so hopeful I tried again.

I suppose I had thought one of them would end up with the ring. You know how the Vorlons and the Minbari get along. I have very few illusions, Mister Garibaldi, and I know I am not a hero. Delenn, she is a hero. Even G’Kar is somewhat heroic in a self-important way. But me? Please. I am well past my glory days, and they weren’t that impressive.

So I said, “It’s not working. I’ve been trying, and it’s not working.” And then, because the universe loves making me look like a fool, the ring slid around the tip of my brachiarte.

What is that? Oh, it is the technical term for … yes, exactly.

Delenn must have seen my surprise, because she asked, “Londo?”

“It worked.”

“What?” G’Kar hissed. We were close enough together it would be hard for the camera to pick up our voices, but if it was already broadcasting, everyone across the quadrant knew he was startled.

I kept my voice as low as I could. “It just worked! I put it on!”

“Onto what?” G’Kar asked. Then he realized. “Oh, for the love of G’Quan. Honestly?”

Delenn was more mature about the issue. “What does it do? Can you tell?”

“It is warm,” I said. “Warmer than it should be, I think.”

“Is that it?” she asked.

“It tingles a bit.”

G’Kar looked disgusted. Really, you think he could be more appreciative than that when I had a chance to save our lives. “I have no desire to hear about any tingles you might be having, Mollari.”

“Londo, please concentrate,” Delenn said, “Vorlon technology is organic. It may be trying to communicate with you.”

I had no idea how some piece of Vorlon technology would communicate with me, and I said as much. Delenn did not have any real answers, although she may have said something that boiled down to Minbari mysticism. G’Kar kept an eye on the door and said nothing, apparently done with any conversation that involved even the implication of brachiarti. Me, I think he is just jealous.

And then, very suddenly, I felt as though a spike had been driven between my eyes. I must have fallen, because Delenn was shouting, and even G’Kar was on his knees next to me. I scrabbled with my other brachiarti to pull the ring off, but it would not move. Another spike hit, and some part of my brain knew it was a form of information. Too bad it wasn’t a form compatible with the Centauri mind. Damn Kosh anyway. He may understand the ‘big picture’ better than the rest of us, but he is not so good at the details.

So there I was, on the floor, as some bizarre alien ring tried to download itself into my brain. I think I had a seizure, but I don’t remember it. But after a while the information slowed, leaving a bitter taste in my mouth. That turned out to be blood, because I’d bit my tongue. The weight I felt very suddenly was also less metaphorical and more G’Kar pinning me down with his knees on my arms and his weight on my chest. Delenn was laid out across my knees.

“Get off me,” I told him.

“Are you going to stop trying to kill yourself? Because I for one refuse to try and get into your shirt to get that ring out.” Great Maker, Mister Garibaldi, he almost sounded concerned. It was probably for his own well-being and dignity, but it was still disconcerting.

I looked up at him, and I found I knew things. They were not concrete things, and they moved away whenever I tried to focus on any one of them, but a plan started to form. Maybe it was mine, maybe it was the ring, maybe it was both. I don’t know. All I do know is that the pieces fit together. “I can get us out of this room,” I said, and I knew it was true. “I don’t know how, but I can. After that … G’Kar, during the occupation, the Narn resistance forces liked to manipulate shipboard computers, convince the Centauri crews that their engines were failing containment so that they abandoned the vessel and the Narn could take it over. Did you ever do that?”

“A time or two,” he said, and then comprehension dawned. “It would only work if I could get to the bridge. I wouldn’t know any other weak points in a human vessel.”

Delenn’s face appeared around G’Kar’s hip. “I am not entirely certain what sort of ship this is, but human design tends to follow certain patterns. I could get us to that bridge, but we would have to fight our way there.”

“Better to fight than sit here and get executed,” G’Kar said.

“Good,” I said. I felt mad and reckless as I had not done since I was young and convinced that nothing in the universe could hurt me. “Then one of you had better undo the lower buttons of my waistcoat and shirt.”

G’Kar rolled his eyes. “And by ‘one of you’ I suppose you mean me.”

“Well, while you’re there …”

“This is the most undignified escape plan ever, and I am ashamed to be a part of it,” he said, and then grabbed at my buttons.

He very nearly crushed me when he tried. “Ach!” I managed to get out while having all the air driven out of my lungs. “Be careful!”

“Oh, stop fussing!”

It was only Delenn who stopped me from kneeing him before he could do any more damage. Somehow he managed to open my shirt without crushing anything beyond repair. Maker only knows how.

He had maybe three buttons undone when the door opened. Luckily for us, humans like to assume things, and seeing us like that? Well, let’s just say that the expressions on their faces convinced me that they were drawing the wrong conclusions.

“Jesus,” one of them said, “get them off one another. Animals.”

G’Kar looked at me, and I at him. He needed to know I was ready to get us out of the room. I nodded to him. I may not be a hero, Mister Garibaldi, but I am very good at surviving.

We were seized and dragged into a line on our knees. As they moved me I rearranged my brachiarti so that two were near to the opening in my shirt, one of them still caught in that ring. The humans were armed with PPGs, and several of them carried knives. One such knife hung from the belt of the man who dragged me into place and held me there. Even as he took his place behind me I remembered where that knife was.

I felt the press of a PPG to the back of my head. The camera would pick up the second it blew my face across the floor. And those humans called us animals.

I heard a woman somewhere over my shoulder say, “Ready.”

The man who had kidnapped us stepped a bit in front of us. I caught Delenn’s eye and I mouthed the word ‘distraction’. She looked up at the man as he began to spout his rhetoric for the camera. Do I remember what he said? No. Like I told you before, he was average. Boring. It did not matter what he said. The words passed his lips and you forgot them the next moment. Delenn had said they were all trying to get noticed, but the only thing I will remember about them is they tried to kill us. They weren’t people to me. Their cause meant nothing. They were just guns with an organic extension off the end.

The man was just saying, “We will retake the power on our world. We will restore our dignity. We will—” when Delenn started to laugh.

The man started to splutter in shock, like he thought it was the universe’s time to take him seriously and we were ruining it. Idiot. The universe takes no one seriously.

G’Kar did not hesitate to join Delenn, giggling even as he said, “Shh! He’s trying to make a point.”

It felt amazing to laugh in their faces, Mister Garibaldi. Better than almost anything. I could not see them but I could feel them lose control of the situation. They might have been guns, but we were minds. And that made us free no matter how they bound us.

“Oh yes,” I said, “very serious.” We all cackled too hard to speak for a few moments. When I could go on, I said, “Sorry, sorry! Did we ruin your big moment? I promise that if you turn your monologue into an aria, I will listen with rapt attention.”

If G’Kar could have applauded, he would have done. “An excellent suggestion, Mollari! I second the motion for a musical number.”

Delenn looked up at that human who had looked like death incarnate a minute before, and now just looked ridiculous. “I am sorry,” she said, and sounded like she meant it. “You have waited your entire life to finally have everyone’s attention, everyone’s fear. But fear does not remain. It is shown to be hollow, something to be passed through and forgotten. Hope remains.”

“Let’s see them forget what you look like without a face,” the man said, his calm stripped away and his tone ugly. “Let’s see the others laugh after you die.”

That was my cue, wasn’t it? If I did not act, Delenn would die, and we would die shortly after. I pulled out the ring from my shirt and I could feel the way the energy in the room moved. I am not speaking metaphorically. Somehow I could feel the way particles bounced off one another in the air. I could feel the surge of them in the power cord to the camera, and in every PPG. Each of those points was like a beacon to me.

The man shouted. A bigoted human like him? I cannot imagine he had looked too hard into Centauri anatomy. He probably did not even know what he was seeing. He raised his gun, and I pushed. The ring burned. I could hear behind me the explosions of half a dozen PPGs, and the power cable went up like a firework. I could barely see. The ring had burned itself away, and yes, that hurt just as much as you might think. So did the overload of the PPG against my head, even if the majority of the force was directed back away from me.

I was thrown forward. A piece of shrapnel tore the side of my neck. I twisted around and I could see the man who was to kill me lying on the floor without a hand. I used my other brachiarte to grab his knife from his belt and stab him before he could do anything else. He died while I cut away the bonds on my wrists.

Many of the humans were not going to be able to attack us, being unconscious or dead and missing limbs. But a few had only burns. I closed with the man who had spoken, and he had barely reached for his own knife when I stabbed him in the heart. He died as forgettably as he lived.

“Mollari!” I heard, and I turned to see G’Kar head-butt one of the men in the stomach from where he was still on his knees. The human doubled up over him and G’Kar snapped his head back to break the human’s nose. Delenn was on her feet, as graceful as I have ever seen, and she did not need her hands to fight a man who lunged at her.

I cut her bonds on the way past, and she knocked the human unconscious with the heel of her hand.

There were only a few left, and one of them came at me with his own knife. I do not know who taught him how to fight with blades, but his technique was woeful. I am nowhere near what I was in my youth, but he was dead in seconds.

I cut the ties on G’Kar and he reached behind me to deliver a blow to a human attempting to sneak up on me. I turned and drove my blade into the human’s throat.

And with the sound of his body hitting the floor the room fell silent. We knew we had to move quickly, that others in the ship were likely watching our intended execution and would be on their way to stop us. I hoped they did not think us so mad as to run to their bridge, and we could avoid many of them while they went to the docking bay.

The door had shorted out, and it opened and closed sporadically. We ran out, and I pulled my brachiarti back into my shirt. It hurt more than I had expected, and I clutched at my midsection for several seconds until the pain receded.

As we ran, Delenn asked, “Were you hurt? I saw the ring turn white-hot.”

“I will not object to medical attention when we get back to _Babylon 5_ , but it will keep,” I said.

She took the lead, and G’Kar and I followed her. There were going to be more humans on the bridge, and they would have PPGs that did work. I no longer had the Vorlon ring, and of us, only I carried a knife. I wanted us to run into human stragglers, if only to gain PPGs of our own before we reached the bridge and the inevitable fight there.

“I don’t suppose you have an idea about clearing out the bridge, while you’re at it?” G’Kar said. “Because they’re likely to have PPGs there too, and the Vorlon ring is gone.”

Delenn’s smile was not one I would want turned on me. “Have you not noticed the torn out panels in these corridors? I think a little rewiring outside the bridge may prove quite useful.”

She is a canny woman, Delenn, and far more ruthless than she would like you to think. I knew that what was ahead of us was just as dangerous as what we had just done, but I was no longer afraid. Delenn was right, you know. Fear is a thing you pass through. We had escaped from certain death, Mister Garbaldi. And even if we faced it again, who could stand before us?


	15. Na’Toth

—Extract from Security Chief Michael Garibaldi’s interview with Na’Toth—

The preparations we made for the rescue are relatively uninteresting, and I’m sure Vir and Lennier babbled at you for hours about the particulars. We got the ship, and after what must have been a fascinating conversation, Doctor Franklin gave Lennier an airborne anesthetic to knock out all the humans on the ship and not affect us. A clever substance. I shall have to see if he’s willing to part with the chemical formula.

But honestly, aside from Miss Winters giving me a whole new perspective on wax and its many uses, nothing terribly interesting happened until we borrowed the human ship. We snuck onboard without any problems. Your Lieutenant Commander Ivanova saw to that, and to the opening of the bay doors. We were through the jumpgate so quickly she would certainly have plausible deniability. I pay back favors done for me.

Once we had taken the ship, Lennier proved himself to be a very capable pilot. Interesting when you consider his past. What a fascinating religion the Minbari must have to train their novitiates to fly.

Unfortunately, with Lennier occupied at the helm, I was left to guarantee Cotto did not muss his disguise. If you think he makes an awkward Centauri, you should see him as a human. He was dressed in one of the black outfits you confiscated when the Homeguard first attacked the station, and his hair was brushed back to his neck. Without whatever it was the Centauri do to make their hair stand on end, it curled a bit. His eyebrows had been curtailed by the aforementioned wax, which might have been the highlight of my month, and his skin was effectively painted the same color as Miss Winters’. Altogether, he was as dumpy and uninspiring a human as he could be. Exactly the sort of mundane face that might get us onto the Homeguard ship.

Of course, that was assuming he could maintain a pretense for more than twenty seconds. “All I have to say is, ‘I have the prisoners’?” he asked me for the fifth time. “That just seems too simple.”

“You should not say it as though you do not believe it,” I said.

“How am I supposed to say it?”

“Like you are bored. Like this is not unexpected. Like you are not playing a part.”

“Okay,” he said.

I had difficulty believing it. Cotto has several qualities I acknowledge to be useful, and one or two I would have to call admirable. His ability to lie with conviction is not one of them.

“I can do this,” he said, and smiled at me. His sharp teeth stood out against his disguise.

“And you must not smile,” I said.

“Oh!” He clapped his hand over his mouth. “Do you think they’ll notice?”

“I do.”

We sat and watched the back of Lennier’s head for a while. I wondered for a while if the grooves in his headbone would deepen with age. Delenn’s headbone seemed almost carved, while his looked like tree bark—gnarled, but delicate.

“You don’t think this is going to work,” Cotto said, too quiet for Lennier to hear us. I glanced at him, and his face appeared older than usual in the poor lighting.

“You mean a rescue plan formed on an impulse, depending upon your ability to bluff past hardened criminals who must know the precarious nature of their position? I don’t think our odds are good.”

“We’re going to manage this, Na’Toth,” he said.

“I am not certain your optimism can change the universe to your liking,” I said. That was what he was lacking: not an ability to lie, but enough experience to pretend to be something he was not: someone with nothing to lose. Narns have been there. I was raised with the knowledge that we live on the edge of a knife, and tipping in either direction will lead us all to destruction. I was not alive during the Centauri occupation, no, but every day of my childhood was spent seeing its remnants. The eldest of us shambled and startled, always paranoid and always exhausted. My own grandfather …

No, Mister Garibaldi, there is no Narn who does not still understand what it is to have nothing to lose but your pride, and how it makes us cling to pride so tightly. Vir Cotto has never experienced that sort of devastation. His hands are soft.

I could have bluffed such an organization. Their philosophy is not unique to Earth. There are Homeguards on every spacefaring world in the galaxy. Yes, if I could have made myself look like one of you, I could have gained us access easily. But all our hopes rested not on me, but on Cotto. You cannot blame me for doubting our chances.

“Maybe I can’t change the universe,” Cotto said. “But Londo’s life is on the line. Don’t doubt my ability to do what I have to do to save him.”

“You have a strange courage,” I said.

“Everyone says that,” he said. “It’s not courage, you know. I’m not courageous. Sometimes I just can’t hide.”

“We have a proximity warning,” Lennier said. I hurried up to him to examine the sensor readout. “A human ship.”

It was large, the human ship, and as blocky as I had come to expect from your design preferences.

“It looks like the one on the data crystal,” Cotto said over my shoulder. “What’s it doing?”

“Rotating,” I said. “Older ships only had gravity if the stopped and rolled fast enough to generate it.”

“Won’t that make it hard to dock with them?” he asked.

“I will manage,” Lennier said. “Transmitting codes.”

We waited for a response.

“Should I be piloting?” Cotto asked. “In case they try to contact us directly.”

“Let us wait and see what happens,” I said.

“Docking codes received!” Lennier said. He looked up at us with a tiny smile. “We are in.”

“Don’t say that yet,” Vir said.

Lennier maneuvered us toward an opening docking bay. As we drew closer, I could see that a ship was already in the bay. “That must be the transport that brought the ambassadors here,” I said. “It has to be.”

“Landing struts down,” Lennier said. “Lining up.” We heard the ship set down. “We are docked.”

I pulled the PPG from my belt and pressed it into Cotto’s soft hands. “You say you can do this? Do it, because if you cannot get us onto that ship I swear I will see you dead.”

“Oh.”

“Glad to provide you with encouragement,” I said.

He pointed the PPG at me, his hand loose and his fingers far from the trigger. “Start walking,” he said.

“Hold it like you mean it,” I said. His finger twitched toward the trigger, but his hand began to shake before it got there.

He backed down and said, “I’ll be fine.”

We were doomed.

Lennier stood up, and Vir fastened cuffs loosely around our wrists. It would look good enough upon a cursory inspection, and if we suffered a closer inspection I doubted it would be the cuffs that tipped off the humans.

Cotto stood behind us and we made our way to the airlock. It opened and we were greeted by a bristle of weapons, but fewer people than I had expected given our unannounced arrival. I snarled at them.

“Don’t shoot!” Cotto said. He clamped his mouth shut and then tried to move his lips less. “I’ve brought the prisoners.”

“What prisoners?” one of the men in front asked. A spokesman for the group. A leader, his voice shaking for some reason. He was dangerous. He was my target.

“The aides to those aliens we have,” Cotto said. I tensed as he stepped in front of us and into plain sight. I studied the humans, but none of them made an overt sign that they did not believe he was human. Whether or not they believed him to be telling the truth was another matter entirely. “I was told to bring them in as … encouragement.” He was clearly trying to say the word as I had said it to him.

“Encouragement for what?” the man asked. The weapons wavered and lowered. I needed a bit more clearance before I was certain I could kill him cleanly. “Those alien bastards are either dead by now or they will be in a few minutes.”

I expected Cotto to panic, but he simply shrugged and said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I just had my orders.”

“Well, your orders are bull, friend. Sorry you came all this way for nothing, but all you can do now is kill them. We’ve got bigger things to worry about.”

Cotto aimed the PPG at me. His fingers twitched toward the trigger and then away. He held it steady, but his eyes pleaded with me to have a plan. I caught Lennier’s eye and he nodded.

We attacked. The cuffs were metal, and they served as knuckle guards quite well. I bashed the spokesman in the face and pulled his PPG from his hand. He dropped when I shot him, as did the three men on either side of him. One of them sailed past me and I turned to see Lennier in a blur of motion. You would not believe it to look at him, but I had suspected he was more dangerous than he appeared. Even I had not understood how dangerous he could be.

He swung around, catching one man with his foot and another with a backhand. As that man bent over to cradle his face, Lennier vaulted over his back and came down on another in a flurry of robes and fists. The expression he wore was rigid, controlled fury, better directed than that which had driven him to strike Cotto. He had spent all this time building to a proper fight, and being allowed to finally strike back looked as exhilarating for him as it was for me.

The men got too close and I fought hand to hand. Two of them had gone down when I was shot in the shoulder. I fell to the floor and looked up to see a human standing over me, aiming his PPG at my head.

“Damn animal,” he said.

A shot rang out, but it was not his. He staggered back into the wall, his own shoulder bleeding. I took the opportunity to leap up and break his neck. I turned to see Cotto standing, the gun raised where he had stood throughout the fight. Then he turned and was sick in a corner.

Lennier dispatched the last three men in a flurry of feet, the last kick sending one of them close enough for me to kick his feet out from under him and drive my fist into his face. I regained my breath while Lennier tended to Cotto, who looked incredibly shaky for having shot a single man non-lethally.

“It is finished now,” Lennier said to him. “You did well.”

Cotto said nothing.

“Let’s move,” I said. “It doesn’t sound like we have much time.”

I palmed open a door into the central corridor, and just as I did alarms began to blare. “What is that?” Cotto shouted.

I had no idea, so I ignored it and started to run. They followed me as I tried to move forward. Lieutenant Commander Ivanova had given us the general plan of such ships, so I knew where the bridge was. From there we would be able to access the central computer and locate our ambassadors.

Then we turned a corner and were confronted by a large group of humans. They were definitely more shocked than we. I raised my gun and they charged. I managed to down one of them, and then they were past us and running for the docking bay. Lennier stood in a defensive posture, looking baffled. Cotto had his gun raised and his eyes squeezed closed.

“Cotto,” I said, “they are gone.”

He opened his eyes and looked around us. “Where did they go?” he asked.

“I do not—”

We all heard the grinding sound of the landing bay doors opening. We turned toward the sound. “Did they just steal the ship we stole?” Vir asked.

We heard another ship disengage further away, likely the transport that had kidnapped the ambassadors. Then softer sounds. I had only heard such things upon occasion, but unless Narn ships are very different to human ships, it was the sound of escape pods being launched. I said so.

“Has something gone wrong?” Lennier asked.

“I can’t imagine a mass evacuation means something has gone right,” I said.

“What if the ship is going to blow up?” Vir asked.

“Then we need to get to a computer and find out what’s happened,” I said. “And if it’s going to blow up, we need to make peace with the universe, because I doubt they’ve been courteous to leave us a means of escape.”

I looked them over. Lennier was calm now that he’d taken his anger out on a half-dozen hapless humans. Cotto was sweating in his human uniform, the paint Miss Winters had applied streaking away to reveal paler skin in stripes. But even he held his ground, ready to do what needed to be done.

As long as doing what needed to be done did not include violence. I believe he might be physically incapable of doing any sort of grievous bodily harm. Not exactly the sort of man I wanted guarding my back, but it was too late to find someone else.

We ran again, knowing time to be short. If the humans were to be believed, we were probably too late, and would find nothing but bodies when at last we located our ambassadors. Lennier was obviously thinking the same, and he looked more and more haunted the farther we ran. Cotto barely kept up with us, his soft body not ready for these sorts of demands, but he did not slow or complain. I can only assume the Centauri adrenal gland is as overdeveloped as their sense of fashion. I could not see the shadow of despair that was already taking root on Lennier’s face, but nor did he look overly optimistic.

I thought of having nothing to lose but my pride. I thought of G’Kar’s most irritating tendencies: whining like a pouchling, his vast array of interspecies affairs, and his obsession with that drunken Centauri. I thought of him dead, amidst so many human bodies. If he died fighting, it was not a terrible way to die. But if he had died on his knees ...

It did not bear thinking about.

It was Lennier who finally voiced the obvious as we stopped to get our bearings and I checked the pad loaded with the schematics of the ship. “What if she’s dead already?” he whispered. “What good am I if I’ve lost her?”

“They’re not dead,” Cotto said, but even he seemed to doubt himself.

It was the height of foolishness to pledge myself to such a vague cause, but freedom is as vague as vengeance, and the Narn have a long history with freedom. “But if they are dead,” I said. “If we manage to repair this ship and survive this day, I promise you I will help you find every Homeguard stronghold, and that together we will scour them. I will make it Shon’kar, a blood oath. You should feel fortunate, Minbari. I have only made a few in my life, and never to someone who was not Narn.”

He took my hand in his. After a moment, Cotto laid his hand over ours. “But they aren’t dead,” he said. “So we won’t have to.”

Then we moved on, knowing where the bridge was. Each moment was filled with the knowledge of how many things could go wrong, and how likely we were to die in this foolish attempt. At last we reached the bridge. The door was closed, and scorched at the edges. “There was a fight here,” I said, and pointed to what could only be a divot created when a PPG skimmed the door frame. “Unless the humans mounted a mutiny of their own, our ambassadors made it this far.”

“The usual bridge crew on this sort of ship can be as many as fifteen,” Lennier said.

“They aren’t dead,” Cotto said.

I drained myself of fear and of passion. If it was needed, there would be time for grief later. “There’s only one way to be certain,” I said, and hit the controls.

The door slid open. I swung inside with my PPG leveled. Lennier was at my side, unarmed in the most dangerous way possible. Cotto was a bit behind us, but had leveled his weapon as well.

We came face to face with three guns, and behind each was an ambassador.

Lennier gasped, and Cotto wasted no time dropping his weapon, batting the PPGs out of the way, and grasping Ambassador Mollari by the arms. “Londo!” he said.

He broke the frozen moment. Lennier began making frantic bows to Delenn, who returned them with a smile and a tranquil bow of her own.

G’Kar and I eyed one another. “I thought you had been murdered,” I said.

“Not quite,” he said. “You seem to have been shot.”

“A scuffle with a few dozen humans. Nothing worth noting.”

“Vir, what in the name of all the gods did you do to yourself?” Ambassador Mollari boomed.

“We needed a human,” he said, “and I was the only one who could pass. Miss Winters helped make me look like this.”

“What happened to your hair?”

“I didn’t cut it. She just put something in it and brushed it down. Should be fixable.”

“Your skin?”

“Just paint.” He dabbed at his face with the back of a hand. It came away streaked in sweat and human coloring. “Streaky paint,” he added.

“Great Maker, what happened to your eyebrows?”

Vir squirmed. “Wax.”

Ambassador Mollari has a great capacity for comical facial expressions, and ‘aghast’ was as satisfying as I had suspected it would be.

The Centauri reunion devolved into Ambassador Mollari grasping Cotto by the chin to study the damage, clucking over his hair and his clothing, and scheming how to smuggle him back onto the station without anyone seeing him in such a state. Despite the nagging and the complaining, they were both grinning and slapping their hands all over one another. They are a very tactile people.

The Minbari were considerably more reserved. “We had thought you dead,” Lennier said.

Delenn said, “We came close, but hope and faith prevailed. Do not fret, Lennier. I am with you.”

“I was to protect you.”

“You cannot see the minds of others. You cannot prepare for every eventuality. And I am fine.”

“Better than fine!” Mollari called out. “You should have seen her commandeer the bridge with a rifle in her hands and two guns tucked in her belt. Even I was afraid of her.”

I asked, “And the humans?”

G’Kar grinned. “Cowards,” he said, and glanced at the other two ambassadors. “One apparent drop in containment of their engines, most of them couldn’t escape fast enough. There are probably one or two fanatics still about, but we will deal with them when and if they show themselves.”

Lennier pulled the canister of anesthetic out from his robes. “Doctor Franklin sent us with this. It should incapacitate all humans that remain on the ship, but will not affect us beyond a certain unpleasant odor.”

“Very good, Lennier!” Delenn said and took the canister to the environmental control panel. The poor Minbari fool practically glowed under her praise. I could not imagine treating Ambassador G’Kar with such reverence.

“And now,” he said, “we will have a very large, well-armed human ship completely under our control. I, for one, would like to take it back to the station before the Homeworld decides to turn this into a diplomatic incident.”

Which was how we became the temporary crew of the _Cape Horn_ , renamed the _Massive Heap of Scrap Metal_ for the duration. I had thought such an epithet Ambassador Mollari’s idea, or possibly G’Kar’s if he thought he was being clever. But when I asked, Delenn smiled at me and gave a tiny bow.

A Minbari with a sense of humor. Wonders never cease.

I manned weapons, G’Kar worked on patching up the systems damaged in their sabotage. Cotto threw himself into finding food, with Lennier acting as escort in case a few humans remained aboard. Delenn sat in the captain’s seat after she finished deploying the gas, and Ambassador Mollari took the helm.

“Strap in, everyone,” G’Kar said. “As soon as we drop out of gravitic rotation, anything not strapped down is going to float away.”

I had just secured myself to the weapons station when Delenn said, “Take us home.”


	16. Security Chief Michael Garibaldi

—Concluding remarks from Security Chief Michael Garibaldi—

So that’s it. Everything I could gather about the ‘diplomatic incident’, as everyone back at EarthGov is calling it. I still don’t have the first damn clue what that ring Kosh gave Londo might have been, and Londo claims that all knowledge about how he used it has drained away. Figures. Just another mystery of the universe, right? I should be getting used to those by now.

Franklin patched up all their injuries, the shot Na’Toth took to the shoulder being the worst of it, and they’ll all be good as new in a few weeks. Even Vir’s eyebrows. The more I think about it, the crazier their luck seems. Six of them against an entire ship, and they come away smelling like roses. What are the odds?

But before anyone thinks that the whole situation is just too remarkable for words, destined to redefine interstellar relations on _Babylon 5_ , let me lay your optimism to rest. Delenn’s back to being mysterious, Na’Toth’s back to alienating everyone around her, Kosh is moping in his quarters, and my boys have already had to break up a fight between Londo and G’Kar that threatened to turn physical in the Zocalo. The only thing that’s different now, as far as I can tell, is that Vir and Lennier have been spotted getting drinks together. Not exactly the sort of change that’s going to shake up the galaxy.

What the hell am I supposed to say beyond that? I suppose I could add my version of what happened, or at least what little I was there to see. I got back to the station after a few days chasing smugglers and everyone was tearing their hair out. One of the visiting diplomats had just been picked up by an EarthForce ship to drag him off for a full investigation on Earth, and the diplomats left behind were ready to bust down the airlock doors to get off the station before it got blown to hell.

Now, as all of this was news to me, I asked the sensible question: “Why is it getting blown to hell?”

Sinclair filled me in on the whole sorry situation. Including that my guys dropped the ball bad enough that three members of the advisory board not only got snatched, but smuggled off the station before anyone figured out something was wrong. You bet I was honked off. My guys are better than that! I’ve chewed out every single one of them and set them on new shifts to guarantee there’s someone in the security office at all times. I’ll be reviewing procedure to figure out what went wrong, and reviewing the logs to find out who’s responsible for no one staying behind to manage anything that happened while the others were out trying to make sure the Zocalo wasn’t torn apart. I ain’t going to rest until I manage that.

But before all that happened, there was the question of our imminent demise. Someone from EarthGov had leaked the news to the Minbari, the Narn and the Centauri. The Minbari and Narn were both sending ships to ‘investigate’ their representative’s kidnappings and possible deaths. And from what I’ve heard, the Centauri sent an angry message. Ivanova’s pretty sure it was a form letter.

So there I was in C&C, realizing just the sort of mess everyone had landed in while I was gone. I couldn’t think of anything I could do at that point but try and get some answers for the Narn and the Minbari. Hell, maybe I’d even uncover a reason why they didn’t have to blow us out the sky while I was at it.

But before I could even move, the jumpgate opens. Ivanova had the defense grid online as soon as it happened, but if it was our station against a Minbari or Narn fleet, we weren’t going to last long no matter what defenses we aimed at them.

We all got ready to bend over and kiss our asses goodbye, but it wasn’t the Minbari or the Narn or even the damn Vorlons who came through. Instead it was a big old human ship hailing us.

I figured Earth had sent their junkiest old cruiser as a gesture of ‘solidarity’, but when Ivanova answered the hail we all heard a voice that sounded a hell of a lot like Delenn saying, “This is the ship _Massive Heap of Scrap Metal_ requesting shuttle service to _Babylon 5_. We seem to have misplaced all our extra craft.”

You couldn’t have surprised me more if Kosh had showed up doing the can-can. We got visual feed online just in time to see all the ambassadors and their aides, and I swear it was like they’d been watching too many pirate movies. It was clear the whole place was zero G, but it didn’t stop Delenn from being draped over the captain’s chair like a cat with cream, or in this case a PPG in her belt and what was left of her robes floating around her. The others were are all strapped in at stations around the bridge, covered in cuts and bruises—or like I said in Na’Toth’s case, a damn gunshot wound patched up with a black shirt—and they all had weapons tucked everywhere they could find and a disreputable look about them.

“Don’t just stand around, Commander!” Londo called from the helm, half his crest still stiff and half of it waving back and forth as he moved. “We have had quite the journey, and I for one would very much like to see my own quarters again!”

Vir started to look worried. “About that …”

But G’Kar was already saying, “And I would like to have my attaché seen to at once. She did enact a rather heroic, if somewhat pointless, rescue on my behalf.”

“What happened?” Ivanova asked.

“How did you capture the entire ship?” Sinclair wanted to know.

Me? I was too busy trying not to laugh at the most disreputable bunch of ‘heroes’ this side of the Milky Way, and wondering if I couldn’t get pictures of them for the future.

All’s well that ends well, I guess. Sure beats getting blown up.

Oh, hey, and here’s a request. Next time I have to go chasing after drug dealers, hold off on having the emergencies until I get back. They may have been the ones who got snatched and spent a day or so waiting to die, but this paperwork’s taken me a week. I’m just saying.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [If I Sang Out Of Tune](https://archiveofourown.org/works/654144) by [nenya_kanadka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nenya_kanadka/pseuds/nenya_kanadka)




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